


By Design

by write_read_play



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-29 15:52:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 132,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13930314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/write_read_play/pseuds/write_read_play
Summary: Regina Mills-Blanchard is a former attorney who inherits an engineering and design firm from her late husband, Leopold. Robin Locksley is her executive assistant, originally hired by Leopold with the intent of becoming a designer at the firm. He's attracted to her and in denial about his feelings convinced she hates him and intends to fire him. Meanwhile Regina is secretly drawn to him but also thinks he hates her, choosing instead to focus on how to rid herself of the firm that she's bound to by Leo's will. Non-magical AU.





	1. Chapter 1

It was an early, quiet Friday evening. Most everyone had already gone home for the day, ready and eager to begin another weekend of rest and escape from the reality of real life work pressures. Robin sat alone in one of the conference room tables surrounded by neatly stacked piles of paper. It was always the same flurry of activity whenever there was a proposal submission deadline. He was the executive assistant to the owner, Regina Mills-Blanchard, who’d inherited the engineering and design firm from her late husband Leopold Blanchard. Robin had been hired during Leopold’s tenure with the promise that the firm would eventually fund his education as an aspiring designer himself, but he’d had trouble finding time to apply to design school as a single father and full-time employee with a demanding boss.

Ms. Mills-Blanchard was tough as nails and as much as she said she appreciated him she also seemed to take pleasure in berating him at any opportunity she got whenever he made a mistake, which was often. What could he say? The woman was an insufferable egomaniac but she was a savvy businesswoman who also happened to be incredibly sexy. Robin often thought of her intimately, wondering what she would be like on a date, what it would be like to kiss her, what she would feel like in the bedroom. But if anyone were to ask him about it, as his best friends Killian and John often had over a game of billiards, he stuck to denying any attraction and vehemently refuted he wanted any other type of relationship with his boss besides his current one.

Like clockwork Ms. Mills-Blanchard interrupted his private reverie. He barely registered the sharp sounds of her stilettos on the concrete floor before the door opened and she asked, “Mr. Locksley, do you have the firm’s current list of past port projects? The one that includes the project that was finished last August?”

He looks up at her with a blank expression and dumbly opens his mouth but not a word comes out. He feels his cheeks flush red with embarrassment and he stammers, “I uh, I…let me check, just a moment please.” Ms. Mills-Blanchard stands there and sighs audibly containing the urge to roll her eyes. _‘What is his deal?,’_ she wonders. Locksley shows a lot of promise as a future designer but as far as she knows he hasn’t applied to a design school since no Request for Education Reimbursement form has crossed her desk for approval. She knows he came to work for Blanchard Snow, Inc. to learn the ropes about the engineering and design business, with the goal of eventually becoming a designer himself. Leopold had hired him as his own executive assistant and often praised the man’s ability to carry out complicated tasks with ease and professionalism.

When Leopold passed away two years ago, Regina was left as sole owner of the firm and she left her career in law to take the post as CEO of Blanchard Snow, Inc., a decision she doesn’t regret in the least, though she does often wonder whether or not Locksley is going to cut it in the long run. So far, he’s fallen exceptionally short of all the praise Leo had bestowed upon him as an employee. They don’t speak and the only sounds in the conference room are the ones coming from papers being shuffled and Robin’s breath now starting to speed up.

“Ma’am, the only ones Trina gave me were the ones that say they were last updated in January of this year. I don’t have the newer version updated in August.”

Regina’s nostrils flare with annoyance and she takes a deep breath. “Mr. Locksley, I happen to know for a fact that Trina gave those to you because I emailed them to her this morning and I saw her making the copies of them myself. Please return to your desk and check to see you didn’t miss them.” She turns to leave and he watches her, staring at her backside then quickly catching himself and taking a deep breath as he stands to head back to his desk. Once there he looks over everything, which is exactly where he’d left it two hours ago and he’s wondering what he could’ve missed when suddenly something catches his eye: a tiny corner of neon green. _Oh shit,_ he thinks to himself. Trina is known for being the only one in the office to hoard and use neon green post-it notes. He curses himself, not believing he missed it. When he reaches for the stack, hidden underneath several office files and other stacks of paper, there it is:

        _Robin, these are the updated versions of the past port projects that the Boss Lady wants to include in the proposal._

_You’ll note they’re dated August. Use these instead of the ones dated January. Have a nice weekend, T._

Shit. Shit, shit, _shit._ He’d already closed and mailed the envelopes to seven different proposals. Robin brought his hands up to his face and covered them in exasperation. She was going to be pissed as hell with him. Better to get it over with and face the music.


	2. Chapter 2

Robin walked over to her office and knocked on the door. “Come in,” she called out. When he entered, she was bent at her desk over some documents carefully reviewing and signing off on them, then briefly looked up. “What is it Mr. Locksley?” Robin took a deep breath before starting, “Ms. Mills-Blanchard, I am so sorry. Trina did leave me the updated proposals. In my hurry to start assembling the submission packets, I didn’t check my desk prior to starting the work in the conference room.”

Regina carefully considers everything he’s telling her. “Have any of the packets left the office?”

Robin looks embarrassed and replies quietly, “Yes they have.”

She stands up and turns, looking out the office window at the twilight sky and the traffic lights below. She can feel her anger rising wondering how much longer she will be able to keep Locksley employed at the firm with his continuous careless screw-ups. Everyone seems to like him, they say he’s a team player, always willing to step in and lend a helping hand on any project. Not for the first time she asks herself silently why she’s keeping him around because he clearly has a problem working with her. “Sit down Mr. Locksley.”

She doesn’t see him, but she hears the chair scrape slightly on the floor and his body’s descent makes the chair give a tiny squeak. Robin waits uneasily for what’s probably only a minute or two but because of the palpable silence, and his guilt over having fucked up, the moment feels loaded and like it lasts longer than it does. When she finally speaks, she still hasn’t turned to face him, but he steals a glance at her reflection in the glass window. She looks angered but also defeated and possibly tired. He ignores his instinct to rise from the chair and put his arms around her, take a deep breath of her intoxicating Chanel Coco Madmoiselle perfume and dot kisses from her neck to her shoulder.

Her voice breaks into his fantasy. “Mr. Locksley, let me be clear. You are dangerously close to losing this job, do you understand? These kinds of careless mistakes aren’t something I’m able to overlook for much longer despite the fact that everyone in this office sings high praises of your capabilities and efficiency as an employee, including my late husband. Therefore I have come to the conclusion that it must be me, and so I ask: what is going on?”

Robin curses himself. Can she see what she does to him? Is he that obvious? Damn this woman. He doesn’t want to be attracted to her. She’s way out of his league and she’s his boss. He cannot lose this job, at least not without having another one lined up and ready.

Regina turns to look at him. “Well? Are you going to answer me or not?,” she asks sharply, bringing him back to the present moment.

“I’m sorry Ms. Mills-Blanchard. The revised version of the port projects was underneath several piles of paper and office files I’m currently working on. I completely overlooked them and I take full responsibility, but I’m more than willing to remain here until I get this all sorted out. I’ll even go to the post office first thing in the morning. I know one of the workers there and he might be able to stop those proposals from leaving.”

John was going to kill him. He’d owe him dinner out at his favorite Chinese buffet restaurant _and_ a case of his favorite beer. Finding specific packages at the post office was a nightmare.

“That’s all fine and dandy, Mr. Locksley, but as I’ve already mentioned, we have a serious problem here. I kept you as my executive assistant instead of promoting Trina to the spot because you came very highly recommended. But ever since I came on board, you haven’t done what I consider a solid job. It is my understanding that your intention was to become a designer at this firm also; is that correct?”

Robin answers her in earnest. “Yes ma’am, it is.” Regina clears her throat and nods once. “Then I would suggest you pay closer attention to your work. Consider this your final warning. Now, please get out of my office.” He hears her exhale and he’s up at once, walking out of there as silently as he can. 


	3. Chapter 3

Robin doesn’t get home until almost 10:00 p.m. that night. He walks into his home, quietly shutting the door behind him. Emma is reading on the couch in his living room. She looks up from her book and greets, “Hey Robin, busy day?”

“You don’t know the half of it,” he sighs and sits down, resting his forearms on his knees. “Where’re Killian and John?”

“Out in your ‘Man Cave.’ Killian and I plan on going to the movies later. I’d ask but I know you can’t come,” she tells him.

Emma had been dating his best friend Killian for a year now and they seemed happy enough, though Robin often wondered whether or not they were becoming more serious. Killian hadn’t mentioned anything to him, but he knew his friend and roommate had fallen deeply for the spirited woman.

After Robin's ex, Marian, ran off with Rodrigo, her Brazilian Zumba instructor, he’d found that an executive assistant’s salary wasn’t enough to pay for the hefty mortgage on the four bedroom house in the Red Bird area of Miami. He thought of selling it but John and Killian had talked him out of it, offering to move into the spare rooms in exchange for a reasonable rent amount, much less than either of them were paying for their one-bedroom apartments in the city.

It worked out quite well for them, and fit in well with Robin's plan to return to school, get a portfolio together, and start working as a legitimate designer. Emma was often over at his house with Killian and on nights like tonight when he was late coming home, he was grateful that she always stepped in and offered to stay and watch Roland, feeding him his dinner, supervising his bath and bedtime routine, and making sure the boy was in bed at a decent hour. Killian often teased her about him not being enough man for her or that she was already trying to trade him in for a younger model. Emma would just laugh at that, while Robin always scoffed, pretending offense and shaking his head in amusement at their banter.

He looks over at her and says, “Thanks again Emma, for always helping out. You’ve no idea how much I appreciate it.”

Emma eyes him up and down, and asks, “How’s that bitch treating you these days?”

Robin’s jaw tenses visibly before he answers her with a serious, “Regina’s not a bitch. She’s just under a lot of pressure trying to do a job she’s never done before. Tonight’s mishap was entirely my fault.”

“Uh huh,” she tells him, “So did she threaten to fire you, again?”

“She did actually, only this time she let me know it was my final warning.”

“Shit Robin,” she looks surprised and her eyebrows shoot up. “You can’t afford to lose that job.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know,” he answers.

He really wants to change the subject. He doesn’t want to talk about Regina anymore, or about work, or about this particular incident. He gets up and starts walking toward the kitchen, asking her as he moves, “How was Roland tonight?”

“Oh he was a doll as usual. We read Ghosties again,” she smirks as she follows him into the kitchen. “He was out by 8:30 and hasn’t made a peep since.”

Robin opens the fridge and grabs a bottle of Blue Moon beer, popping the cap off with a churchkey and tossing both on the counter. He takes a deep swig, gulping it down and immediately suppresses the strong urge to burp. He would if he were alone or with the guys, and though he’s comfortable with Emma, he still has manners. “Would you like a beer?” he asks.

“No, thanks. I’m gonna go out there and let Killian know I’m ready to go whenever he is,” she says as she opens the side door that leads out to the garage he and the guys converted into a game room complete with a pool table John scored for a pittance off Craigslist, and a makeshift bar they'd made out of sanded, varnished wood planks his elderly neighbor, Mrs. Lucas, had given him when she’d overbought rather than return them to Home Depot. The sound of billiard balls echoes throughout the garage when Emma opens the door, catching the tail end of John’s laughter no doubt at some joke Killian just made. Robin follows her out there, making sure the door doesn’t close all the way in case his son cries out for him.

“Look who’s finally been released from his corporate prison,” Killian cries out when he sees Robin. “Did that woman finally let you bang her on the desk like you’ve been dreaming about for ages?”

“Really Killian?,” he scoffs obviously irritated. “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, mate, it’s no secret you’re drawn to her. Why not take a chance and ask her out?”

“I’ve no intention of asking anyone out, mate. And I might well watch my tongue if I were you. I don’t like what you’re implying nor do I know where you get these ideas,” Robin replies. Killian rolls his eyes, but decides to drop it after Emma walks over to where he’s standing and puts an arm around his waist, whispering something in his ear the other two can’t hear.

“Alright mates, we’re off to the cinema. See you later,” he tells them as he finishes his beer, tossing the empty bottle into the bin marked for recycling while placing the cue stick on the table, and lets Emma lead him out to her yellow Volkswagon Beetle.

John glances over at Robin and says, “Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t mean anything by it you know.”

Robin looks back at him before answering him, “I know.” He takes up the stick Killian put down a minute ago and asks John, “Shall we?”

The heavyset man looks at his friend curiously but nods silently in agreement as Robin takes the triangle and starts racking up the balls. He deftly removes the triangle once the balls are settled into place, then takes the cue stick and chalks the tip. Once he puts it back on the edge of the table, he picks up his beer taking another swig before starting, “I’ve a favor to ask of you…”

 ***  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  ***  

Regina arrives at The Bar at Level 25 at 10:20 that evening. Mal, her best friend and former colleague, is sitting at the bar looking forlorn and almost bored. She sees her glance down at her watch and sigh, her back subtly changing in posture as she lets the breath out of her lungs.

“Sorry I’m late,” Regina says as she sits down in the chair beside her friend, placing her small purse on the bar and winking at Andy the bartender who winks back knowingly, turning to prepare her usual drink, a Dirty Martini.

“Regina, how nice of you to remember you’d be meeting me tonight,” Mal practically purrs. She’s annoyed, Regina can tell. It’s not unusual since Mal is always annoyed with everyone. It’s the reason why she has so few friends which ironically makes her a stellar attorney. Regina respects her and knows she should have called or texted but she was in a hurry to just get there after the week she’d had.

“It’s proposal submission time again, and I had contracts to review before signing off on them,” she tells the surly blonde.

“Yes, yes, it’s always something. I beg of you, don’t bore me to tears with your new duties as CEO. Let me fill you in on the latest office gossip. Last time we got together, I told you we hired a new attorney named Kathryn Nolan after your successor, Isaac Heller quit to start his own firm. Remember?,” Mal asks her as Andy places a small napkin and her martini in front of her and she smiles her thanks before nodding to Mal and sipping her drink. She _needed_ this. “Well," Mal goes on, "it turns out Sidney Glass has become obsessed with Kathryn. Honestly the man has no sense of corporate decorum. He started sending her lavish floral arrangements, and gag-inducing love notes about her beauty and how she affects him. An absolutely mortifying display, and it’s only because he wants to get into her Daddy’s good graces.”

It was no secret that Kathryn’s father, Michael Midas, Esq., was interested in finding associates he could groom into eventual partners for his growing firm. When Regina had worked there, he often remarked that she had a bright future ahead of her, the implication clear that she would become one of the ‘Golden Ones,’ as the other attorneys referred to Midas’ chosen associates. She loved practicing law and often missed it, though she didn’t miss Sidney’s advances - nor the look on his face when she finally confronted him about his weird and inappropriate obsession with _her_ , a married woman. Sidney left her alone after that, though he often acted bitter and resentful, refusing to team up with her on the larger, higher profile cases. Regina truly never gave a damn about his feelings or opinions about her; ever since she met Sidney, he’d given her a weird vibe and for once she was thankful she was married, albeit unhappily.

When she doesn’t say anything, Mal continues, “Of course Kathryn is gobbling it up, acting like a childish, silly school girl with a crush. You know she’s just rebounding after the divorce, and Sidney appears to be the only man who’s shown an interest in her.” Mal stops and looks over at her friend who’s playing with the toothpick speared through her olives, swirling them absentmindedly in her drink. “But you know it’s all a pointless show anyway being that Kathryn is really a lesbian.”

“Mmhmm,” Regina murmurs.

Mal scoffs and taps her arm, “What’s going on? You’re lost in thought tonight. Don’t tell me I hurt your feelings with what I said about your job. We both know you’d rather be practicing law than manning that firm Leo _left_ you. Have you thought of selling it?”

“Mal, come on. You know I can’t. It was part of his will; I have to keep the firm. It’s the only way I keep the estate and my bank account. Leo made sure I’d have no other option. It was ‘all or nothing.’ I’d have nowhere to go and I’d have to start from scratch. You know how expensive this city is,” Regina tells her.

“Regina, you know you could always come and stay with me for however long it would take you to save up enough to afford your own place. One that’s entirely yours and without any fucking strings attached. What Leo did was manipulate you for the last time from the grave to keep you trapped in this life, a life you didn’t truly want for yourself,” Mal says.

Regina looks Mal in the eye and says, “I know and I love you for it. But I would never ask that of you. Besides, it would take me years to save up for a house while keeping this one maintained and that’s if I could even sell it to begin with.”

“Darling,” Mal says sounding bored again, “may I remind you that we both know our way around a contract and Leo’s will is merely another contract no matter how ironclad it seems. Which means there are loopholes.”

“Yeah well, I haven’t been able to find one yet that would get me out of this life. Gold has made sure to rub my face in that fact,” Regina answers and raises her glass, taking a sip. “Now what’s this about Kathryn being a lesbian?”

Mal looks at her, smiling deviously and answers, “I was kidding,” then signals over to Andy letting him know she’d like a refill.


	4. Chapter 4

Robin sleeps like the dead until he feels small feet pressing into his lower back. Roland, stretching apparently. Since Marian ran off, he’d started coming into his bed in the middle of the night most nights, probably to make sure that Dad hadn’t left him the way his mother had. Robin stretches himself and yawns at the same time, rises quietly from his bed, tossing the covers away and checking his phone for the time. It’s 6:48 a.m. With any luck Roland will still be out another half hour. 

He tries to be as quiet as he can but ends up stepping on a rogue Lego letting out a strained, “Bloody fuck!” and waking Roland in the process. 

His son opens his eyes and says sleepily, “Dad, swear jar.” 

“I know,” Robin answers, bending over to kiss his son’s head, gently reminding, “and Legos also belong in their bin, remember?” 

“Whoops,” Roland tells him, “Sorry Dad. I’ll do better next time, I promise. I know they hurt big people’s feet.”   

“They hurt all feet Roland. Come on, let’s go get make some breakfast. Anything you want?”

“Um,” Roland thinks about it a few seconds before he answers, “French toast? No. Pancakes? No. Wait—a Pop Tart?” 

“How about some peanut butter toast with a sliced banana and a glass of milk?” Robin’s eyebrows shoot up and he looks down at him.  

Roland nods and smiles at him with a cheery, “Okay!” scrambling out of the bed and taking off in a sprint toward the kitchen as Robin calls out after him, “Roland! The Lego!” 

“Right!,” the boy bellows back as he returns to grab the plastic piece from his father’s hand. It’s a good thing that Killian spent the night at Emma’s and John left early for work this morning, otherwise they’d be opening their bedroom doors grumbling about it being too damn early for this much noise before coffee.

By 8:30 a.m., Robin’s leaving the post office with the packages tucked away safely in the trunk of his green Honda Accord. After the last chaotic mishap with packages, John had held them back separately from the rest of the outgoing piles after Trina dropped them off, making sure he raked Robin over the coals about it because it could cost him his job if anyone found out he'd been holding back mail. 

Robin assures him it’s the last time something like this happens, promises he’ll be more careful in the future (making sure never to admit the real reason behind his carelessness, his distraction -  _her -_  because it’s nothing, nothing he hasn’t got under control and it’s really none of John’s business anyway no matter how long they’ve been friends). John still manages to get the final word in muttering, “See that you don’t man.” 

Robin stares at him, a silent warning. He doesn’t need this shit and certainly not from his oldest friend, and John senses that so he changes the subject asking, “So what’s the deal with Trina?” 

“I don’t understand,” Robin says feigning confusion, even though he understands because although John hasn’t mentioned anything to him, Trina has. She’s often remarked to Robin how his friend is _such a sweet teddy bear of a man_ and how he’s _always so kind and helpful_ whenever she has to drop off packages for the firm, making Robin roll his eyes in jest. The receptionist stands just shy of five feet tall and always keeps her blonde curls up in a slightly messy bun. She’s quirky in a cute way, though not Robin’s type; he prefers strong and confident brunettes, but this isn’t about him because John is expecting an answer, isn’t he? 

Robin never thought much about setting his friend up with his co-worker, because if he’s honest with himself he’s caught up in his own life and responsibilities. Besides, he’d never been one to set any of his friends up, having been on the receiving end of several disastrous setups himself when he was in his twenties. And now at thirty-eight, Robin doesn’t have time or desire for romantic involvement. _That’s bullshit_ , his mind scolds, _what about all those fantasies about Regina?_ He reminds himself that it’s purely physical attraction because she’s a beautiful woman, but that those are simply healthy fantasies, fantasies about his boss sure but fantasies nonetheless because the reality is they live in, and come from, two very different worlds. He’d never voice out loud how he thinks about what her body would look and feel like naked, sweat slicked, riding him to orgasm, moaning incoherently as he fucks her deeply and spanks her ass, kneading the flesh so she grinds harder against him.  

As if reading his mind, John clears his throat asking, “Are you alright man? You look a little flushed. I didn’t say anything wrong, did I?” 

John’s words are like a bucket of ice over his head. “No,” he assures his friend, “you didn’t. Sorry, I was just lost there for a moment. I don’t know much about Trina. I know she lives with a roommate and has a cat named Blue. She’s a vegetarian, she likes to read and, oh yeah, she hoards neon green post-its,” he chuckles.  

John smiles at this then asks, “Why’d she name the cat Blue?”

“I’m not sure,” Robin shrugs. “Maybe next time she stops in you can ask her?” 

John coughs at that and sheepishly admits, “I’m actually, uh, seeing her tonight.” 

This surprises Robin because he’s always known John to be extremely cautious with the ladies. He’s had his heart broken and often ends up becoming the guy who’s 'such a great friend' but never the one. He wants something to work out for him, so he raises his hand to fist bump John’s as John's fist meets his own. “Well then, I hope it goes well for you. Anyway, I’ve got to get to the office and fix this shit so I can send them out correctly. I’ll be back in a few hours. If I don’t see you, good luck on your date tonight,” he tells his friend, as he gets into his Accord and drives off. He’s not going to think about his stirring cock right now or the slight pressure it’s causing in his jeans. He’ll deal with that in the privacy of his shower tonight. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Robin has been sitting in the same conference room as last night, his iPhone on the table playing music from the Rainy Day Jazz station on Spotify. He’s so focused on what he’s doing, this time having taken everything apart, spread the pages into separate piles across the long table. He’d pushed the wheeled conference room chairs against the far wall so he’s able to comfortably walk around resorting what he needs to. Each proposal packet is different and he mentally swears; he loathes assembling project proposals. It’s grunt, tedious work. He cannot fathom why in this age the forms aren’t submitted digitally like everything else, then remembers that if he'd sent them digitally, he’d have ended up sending the wrong information anyway so it’s actually a blessing in disguise. To ensure no mistakes are made, he’s even prepared a checklist per proposal listing out each required form written next to a box that he can check off to make sure it’s included and accounted for. _No mistakes_ , he tells himself. Robin’s so immersed in his work, he almost jumps when he hears the front door to the firm opening and the jangle of keys. He didn’t know anyone else was planning on working this weekend, so he peeks his head out of the doorway and sees it’s Regina. She hasn’t looked up yet. She’s dropping her keys into her tote, holding a Starbucks cup in the other hand and when she pushes her glasses up to the top of her head, Robin smiles a warm, “Hello,” startling her into a gasp. 

“Mr. Locksley!” she looks at him, “I didn’t expect to see you here today. You damn near gave me a heart attack.”  

“Apologies, ma’am. I’m here redoing the proposal submissions packets. I was able to get them back from the post office and brought them here to sort out properly.”

“Yes, well, I won’t keep you then,” she exhales and heads for her office, leaving a trail of that intoxicating perfume that is so her. 

With that Robin ducks back into the conference room, tampering down his excitement because this is nothing. _Nothing_. They’re both here _to work_ and that’s it. _Besides_ , he tells himself, _let’s not forget she hates you and she’s close to firing you._

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Over an hour goes by, the only sounds coming from the soft clicks of Regina’s keyboard and the muted jazz playing on Robin’s phone. He looks over at it and sees it’s a few minutes to noon, so he gets up, making his way over to her office and taps on the doorframe. “Are you hungry?” 

She’s wearing _the glasses_ , the thick, black frames that are a little too big for her small face and that make her look like a sexy nerd. He loves them on her but says nothing of the sort. _She hates you, so be courteous, professional._

“I am actually. You ordering in?” she asks. 

“No, I had a hankering for a burger from Pincho Factory,” he says and Regina almost groans, her mouth watering at the thought of a thick, juicy burger with her favorite toppings. 

“Sounds perfect, here,” she tells him as she jots down her order quickly on a post-it, then peels it off and hands it to him, dipping her hand into her tote and pulling her wallet out. 

“No, I’ve got it this time,” Robin assures her, “Keep your money.” 

It’s ridiculous, she thinks. She knows he’s a single father and he doesn’t make much money. Leo once casually mentioned that Robin’s wife had left him and their son to run off with a dance teacher or gym trainer, something along those lines. She never lets herself get personally involved with people because the last time she did she’d ended up married to a man over twice her age after he’d managed to convince her that he understood her needs and desires better than anyone else, plus he’d been so charming back then. Leo kept himself fit by working out regularly, eating a healthy diet, and keeping himself regularly groomed. It was a bit of a shock that he’d ended up with what appeared to be erectile dysfunction and when she told him he should have it checked out by a urologist, he scoffed insisting it was nothing a dose of Viagra couldn’t cure, only he was wrong. Leo actually had metastatic prostate cancer that had gone undiagnosed until it was too late and but that time, it had spread to his liver and lungs. His death might have been avoided were it not for his stubborn negligence about seeing a doctor, always arguing that as long as he kept his body in shape he was healthy.  

“Is everything alright?” Robin asks her, catching her off guard because his face expresses concern but it's impossible because this man hates her and is intentionally sabotaging future work for the firm. _Isn’t he?_  

“Yes,” she answers quickly, “You’re sure? I’ve got plenty of cash on me.” 

“Oh I’m sure you do, but it’s not necessary. You can pay next time,” he winks, then walks off and she hears him exit the office. 

On his way to the car, Robin is chastising himself silently. _She can pay next time, what the fuck is wrong with you? Like there would ever be a next time because what, you’re going to keep making mistakes only to have to come in after hours and on weekends and hope that she’s working too so you can eventually woo her? She hates you, man, and not only that but she’s your boss so get your shit together and don't fuck this up. You'll keep it in your pants until you can get off solo tonight._ Robin can't decide what's more sad: that he's giving himself shit about lusting after his boss, or that he's going to be jerking off to thoughts of her later.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

He returns almost an hour later with their lunch, placing the bag with her food in it carefully on the edge of her desk. She glances up at him and says thanks. He can see she’s busy so he nods once and leaves her to it, returning to his own desk to leave his keys there before walking over to the firm’s lunch room. He’s just finished opening his takeout container when Regina approaches the table he’s sitting at. 

“Would it be weird to eat together?” she asks him, sounding a little unsure. 

Well _this is unusual_ , but not in a bad way. Robin looks up at her all smiles, shakes his head saying no, it’s not weird at all and to please sit down, after all _it is her office_ and she can do whatever she likes.

Without looking at her to see a reaction to his words (words he didn't think would be taken the wrong way), he wonders how he’s going to eat in front of her. His stomach is in knots and he’s just about lost his appetite. But he needn’t have worried because no sooner than he’s said those words, she mutters, “Forget it,” under her breath and leaves the lunch room, never having unpacked her lunch.

He sits there for several seconds before standing up, scraping the chair on cheap linoleum flooring, wondering what the hell just happened. When he reaches her office door, she’s schooled her features into an unreadable expression, her tote slung over her left shoulder, her keys and the takeout bag in her right hand, eyes covered by her enormous sunglasses, and the sexy large black are surely tucked into her tote. 

“Regina? Did I offend you? Please forgive me if I did, though I’m confused, I—”

She cuts him off, uninterested in whatever he was about to say. “No. I just remembered I have an appointment. See to it that those packages are at the post office before they close today, but make sure every piece of paper is correct before you take them over.” 

“You realize they close at 2:00 this afternoon, right?” 

“Then you’d better hurry,” she snaps. “And Mr. Locksley? It’s Ms. Mills-Blanchard. Show some respect,” she adds bitingly. 

Robin nods, jaw tensing wondering whether or not his ass is on the line for whatever it was he said, which he’s racking his brain trying to remember exactly what it could have been that had set her off. He watches her leave, leaving him to stew in confusion and also relief; now that she’s gone he can stuff his face with his lunch as he damn well pleases. Once his nerves have settled of course. He returns back to the lunch room to do just that, finishing everything by 1:45 in the afternoon, and making it to the post office nine minutes later just as Carlita, John's favorite colleague, is starting to lock up and he begs of her to please take the packages, please do him this favor this one time, that he’ll owe her. Carlita rolls her eyes but laughs good-naturedly at him, saying, “You better be grateful I’m a sucker for those pretty blue eyes, England.” 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Regina gets to her Cocoplum home, the one she and Leo shared. She’s all pent up with frustration and rage. How dare he, how _dare_ he?! If Locksley only knew the shit she’s had to put up with, leaving the profession she loves just so that she can babysit a motley crew of geeky engineers and quirky designers. She wasn’t meant for that world; she was happy in the sterile, black and white environment that was practicing law. Everything was cut and dry and not at all fluid like it is at Blanchard Snow, Inc. You got a case, did the work by researching laws and facts then argued your findings in a court of law. It was very clear-cut and she missed it so much. She looked around the house. All they owned was upscale, from the buttery soft Italian leather sectionals adorning the living room, to the solid marble pillars that marked the entrance into the formal dining room and then the kitchen, and then the entrance to the hallway leading to the rooms. She walked to the bar and poured herself a shot of whiskey, breathing through the burn as the liquid coated her throat. Eventually she would put Locksley’s ignorant comment out of her mind, but for now she needed to sweat it out. She rinsed out the shot glass, and promptly put it into the dishwasher then headed to her bedroom to change into her workout clothing before walking to the room Leo had transformed into a home gym equipped with an elliptical, treadmill, stationary bike, free weights, rowing machine, and kettle balls. One entire wall was covered in a giant mirror and the stereo system was controlled by an iPad in a panel right next to the door. She didn't even glance at it. She wasn't in the mood to workout to music today anyway. 

Regina is so tired, so _fucking_ tired of strangers judging her, jumping to conclusions about her, about her life. As if she could do whatever she wanted. Locksley had no clue about her life, knew nothing about Leo’s will and the specific clause read aloud to her by Spencer Gold, Leo’s attorney, who took great pleasure in watching her face fall with shock while he informed her she could keep everything, all of their possessions and properties, all bank and investment accounts, with one caveat: she had to cease practicing law and immediately take up the Chief Executive Officer position at Blanchard Snow, Inc. Her only other option was to leave with whatever clothes was on her back and the estate would be turned over to auction, any and all profits from said auction going to several charities already having been chosen by Leo and his slimy attorney. 

Leo had loved her in the beginning but he quickly grew tired of the long hours her career demanded. They fought a lot, then he’d lavish her with expensive gifts. A tennis bracelet encrusted with diamonds, a first class trip to Bali for two weeks because he’d said they needed to get away to reconnect and give their marriage a chance. Even her AMG GLS 63 Mercedes SUV was presented to her with a large red bow one morning three weeks after Christmas with Leo begging her forgiveness for giving her shit over her having had to work eighteen-hour days from Thanksgiving all the way until New Year's. Regina tried many times to reason with him, assure him the reason she was doing all this was for herself, because it was one part of her life that brought her joy, which only left Leo mad and resentful that he couldn’t compete with her career. Despite her protests that those were two different things, Leo refused to understand or compromise with her desire to be a topnotch attorney. The harder he pushed, the harder she pushed back. He’d even once tossed out her birth control pills in the hopes she’d get pregnant, but Regina confronted him about it leading to another angry fight and a call to her gynecologist’s office requesting she be fitted for an IUD as soon as possible. She had nothing against children; she only knew she didn’t want to be pregnant with Leo's baby, especially not with their tumultuous marriage.

She walks over to the treadmill and steps on, punching in the speed and incline she wants and starts off with a brisk pace that soon becomes a jog to warm herself up. The more she thinks about her marriage and how it had fallen into a pit of despair full of bitter fights and angry words, then about how Leo’s eventual cancer diagnosis and rapid decline only further divided them, she feels like she should have known. She should have been watching her back for betrayal. Even Mal warned her to keep her wits about her; Leo was temperamental, pissed, and now dying. The house they lived in was his originally; Regina had moved in right before they were legally married and Leo never put her name on the deed, which she _should have_ insisted on. She should have insisted on a lot more than that, should have insisted she be included in all of _their_ financial decisions. But she was too caught up in her career, her entire focus was on becoming a Golden One at Midas’ firm, intent on achieving partnership before she was thirty. Instead she got bulldozed into a corner. She remembers Gold's words: leave everything or keep living there under her dead husband’s thumb. She often contemplated it, leaving it all and starting over with nothing. The thoughts were more intense after seeing Mal who always brought it up, always offered her a place to stay. But Regina couldn’t do it. Something always kept her from walking away. 

Regina punches up the speed and incline on the treadmill, feeling the familiar but welcome burn in her lungs and sides as she focuses on breathing deeply. Anything to keep her mind from continuing to think about her life and how many wrong turns it took, her former husband, if and when she’d be back to practicing law, the firm she was now responsible for, and whether or not she’d let herself trust a man again. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Robin comes home to find Mary Margaret, Roland’s regular sitter, sitting on the floor playing Connect Four with his son. He notes the checkers strewn about the coffee table and on the floor beside them. A mug of steaming Oolong, her preferred beverage, nearby. 

“Daddy!” Roland yells, “You’re back! Can we order a pizza for dinner, pleeeeeease!?” 

Mary Margaret gets up off the floor and smiles warmly at him. “Hi Robin, did you get everything done?”

“I did, thank you very much for staying with him on your day off,” he tells her. 

“Oh I don’t mind,” she says, “he was great as usual. We watched _Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs_ after lunch, read for a bit, and have been playing for the last ten minutes. But if you don’t need me, I’d like to get home. I have a date tonight,” she adds conspiratorially, lowering her voice at the last statement. 

Robin smiles back at her and says he won’t keep her, then walks her to the front door says goodbye and lets her out, he returns to the living room where Roland looks up at him and asks, “Dad, what’s a date?”

He chuckles at the boy. “A date is something two adults do together. They usually go out somewhere, often to a restaurant or a movie."

"But why?" 

"Well, because they'd like to spend time alone and have some quiet conversation without any interruptions.” 

Roland looks at him quizzically, “But Daaaad, the adults don’t _have_ to _go out_ to have a quiet conversation, they just gotta wait until the kids are in bed to do it!”  

At that Robin snickers, trying to school his expression into something that doesn’t give anything away or that he doesn’t accidentally make an inappropriate comment about Roland’s choice of words before simply replying, “Indeed son.” 

The boy gets up and shakes his head seriously saying something about adults being weird as he starts picking up his toys and taking them back to his room while Robin chuckles again soflty, shaking his own head and scrolling through his phone apps until he finds the one he opens to place the pizza order. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

It’s almost 11:00 when Robin finishes cleaning up after dinner and desert. They’d ordered the “Big Man’s Special” named by Roland and also their favorite, loaded with their preferred “manly” toppings (which is what Roland always called the pepperoni, ham, and spicy Italian sausage after Killian's joke about the spicy Italian sausage being so hot it would put hair on his son’s chest). As a result, every time they ordered the “Big Man’s Special” Roland spent several minutes staring at his chest, asking Robin if he could see his hair. He always humored his son, clapping his shoulder lovingly then tousling his hair. “Of course, my boy, look there,” and he’d point to what was obviously a patch of fine, peach fuzzy baby hair. 

Robin turns everything off, except the microwave light over the stove. As far as he knows, Killian isn’t due back until tomorrow night since he usually spends weekends at Emma’s, and he’s sure John will be back later from his date with Trina. 

 _Everyone’s out on a date_ , Robin thinks to himself, _except me._ Then he shakes off the thought and a familiar, lovely face enters his mind. _Wait a tick, I do have a date tonight_. He heads upstairs to his shower, turns it on and strips. When he steps inside, the water is so hot he hisses and adjusts the temperature, taking the bar of soap in his hands and lathering his body then wets his hair under the spray and shampoos it quickly. He allows his mind to wander to _her_ , quickly tamping down any guilty feelings that arise over imagining his boss in the shower with him, her hands splayed across his shoulders, caressing his biceps, his chest. 

Robin keeps his eyes closed as he takes his cock in his right hand, pumping the shaft slowly adding a slight twist on the upstroke. He moans quietly as his erection gets harder. He focuses his imagination on Regina’s face. Her body is covered in moist droplets of water and she looks sexy as the drops cascade down her cheeks, drip off her chin and onto her chest. Robin breathes deeply, bringing to mind her perfume, and it feels so _real_ to him. He starts pumping faster keeping his eyes close while Fantasy Regina presses her breasts against his chest, then pushes her torso back, her fingers coming up to tease and tug at her hardened nipples. She opens her mouth, tongue peeking out, licking her bottom lip. Robin groans. _He wants her badly._ By now he’s pumping his cock furiously as she kneels before him as his cock disappears into her mouth. She takes it in deeply, swallows and he can feel the back of her throat squeezing the tip. _No you bloody fool, it’s a fucking fantasy, there’s no one here with you and you, you sick fuck, are masturbating to your_ boss _._   _What the hell is the matter with you?_  But the inner voice soon quiets down because he won't let it stop him, denies he’s a pervert, definitely not, he’s just a man who's attracted to his boss. He wants her but not just physically. He wants to take her out, he wants to get to know her better and then hopefully someday get her naked and wet and slippery and…and… “Aghhhhhhhh!!!” His cum shoots out in thick streams quickly disappearing down the drain along with all of his rationalizations about how nothing he’s done tonight makes him a pervert _(is he still on that? yes apparently he is)_ , except now in the calm after the orgasm he’s just had, he feels a bit weird, like he's disrespected her somehow. _She doesn't know_ , he tells himself. _Yes, but she’s your_   _boss_. She’s also his former boss’ wife. Well, widow actually. What the hell was he doing? Having a bloody ridiculous inner monologue that's completely pointless, and wasting hot water to boot. He shakes his head, turns the nozzle off, and starts drying himself. By now he's ready to get into his bed, fall asleep and put another day behind him. Oblivious that several miles east of him, in a mansion in Cocoplum, his boss, the literal woman of his dream, awakens from a vivid, erotic dream herself, coincidentally featuring her blue-eyed nemesis of an executive assistant. She’s feeling off and there’s a slight ache in her neck from having falling asleep on the couch, so she turns the television off and heads to her bedroom. She’d been watching an episode of _Weeds,_ can't even remember the episode or much less the season. All she knows is that Nancy Botwin was getting fucked hard on the hood of a car _,_ finding purchase on a wall with a booted foot -and _that_  is what she’ll blame for the dream she had. If she gets in bed that night with one of her trusty vibrators and fantasizes about her nemesis fucking her hard the same way that man did to Nancy, well, that’s her own damn business and more importantly, no matter how hard she comes, it means nothing.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

He awakens from a deep sleep, a full bladder forcing him out of bed. Before heading over he glances at his phone, sees it’s just after four in the morning and he pads barefoot to the bathroom. He gently pushes the door open and stands before the toilet, relieving himself. When he flushes and tucks himself back into his pajama bottoms, he hears a slight shriek and he’s suddenly wide awake, turning the light on only to see Trina Bell wearing one of John’s shirts and...not much else. Robin stares at her a few moments before excusing himself awkwardly. Trina says nothing, just stands aside as he walks by her back to his room. He’ll have a talk with John tomorrow; he doesn’t mind his roommates having lady friends over but there definitely had to be some boundaries set because it could have been his son waking in the middle of the night to pee or to ask for a glass of water, and frankly he doesn’t need to have the boy seeing a nearly naked woman, much less one he knows works with his dad, lest he get the wrong idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I continue?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's left kudos and comments! I appreciate them and I'm happy you're enjoying the story. :)

Monday morning arrives once again. All the men at Robin’s are sitting around their dining table silently eating breakfast. All that can be heard are the sounds of utensils scraping bowls, mouths crunching cereal, and coffee being shamelessly slurped. There’s a knock on the door and Robin tells Roland to grab his backpack. That would be Mary Margaret there to take him to school, a convenience Robin never overlooks as he opens up the door, greets her with a smile  and hands her a to-go mug full of Oolong tea. She’s the music teacher at Roland’s school so they have the same schedule, which works out for her side hustle as the boy’s nanny. 

“How was your date Saturday night?” Robin asks. 

“It was good,” she smiles, glancing down demurely. 

“Spoken like someone who got their jollies, eh?” Killian interjects crassly with a devious look in his eyes. 

Mary Margaret’s eyes open widely. Robin takes the hint, spares her embarrassment, calls for Roland to hurry and when the boy runs in, he stops in front of his father for a kiss goodbye. When they leave, Robin sits down in the chair between John and Killian, brings his coffee to his lips and his other hand goes up as well to smack the back of Killian’s head. 

“What the hell was that for?”

John chuckles at the two of them and Robin smirks at Killian. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Traffic in Miami is the usual nightmare of people cutting others off, a cacophony of horns can be heard along with bored, tired, angry and frustrated expressions in vehicles. Robin and his family ended up moving here because Marian was offered a  faculty position with the University of Miami’s Department of Theatre Arts. In all honesty, there were things he loved about this city and things he hated, but it was more the former than the latter. They’d moved from New York City, and as a result had finally been able to afford things like their own home; they’d been renters for all of their married life before moving here seven years ago. He’d stuck it out for her, despite his misgivings about this city. Life was hard here and it was fascinating. Everything was expensive and jobs were scarce and the salaries a pittance. Which was why after she’d left him, his first instinct had been to sell the house and move, often wondering if his friends’ convincing him to stay was more for themselves than for him and his son. _Snap out of it, you know they mean well._  

He arrives at work, walking in briskly to escape the heat and vapor, wiping at the sweat on his brow. Not for the first time does he think to himself that no place on earth should ever be this hot. It’s like Hades’ Playground, no matter the month. 

“Morning Robin,” Trina greets a little awkwardly. 

He clears his throat says hello and heads to his desk. Yesterday he had a long talk with John about him and Trina having bumped into one another in the middle of the night. The man was mortified, apologized to him and said it wouldn’t happen again. Robin thought about giving him a rough time since just the morning before John had been giving Robin a hard time about messing up with the mail but chose not to. John seemed sincere in his apology and assurance that that would be the only occurrence. He loved Roland too after all. 

“I hope things aren’t going to be weird between us, now that John and I are seeing each other,” she tells him. 

“Not at all, Trina,” he says approaching her workstation, his back facing the front door. “But I do ask that the next time you spend the night in my home, you put on clothing before leaving the room in the middle of the night.” He doesn’t even realize until it’s too late that Regina has walked in, catching his last sentence. 

It all happens fast but it feels like it’s in slow motion. He turns around and his amused face comically shifts into a panicked grimace when he sees his boss standing before him looking furious. “Mr. Locksley, my office. Now.” 

He can barely register what’s going on, an invisible trail of her fucking perfume hitting his nostrils paired with the unmistakable aroma of the espresso she’s holding in one hand. Trina winces at him and mouths _sorry!_ He turns away, head slightly lowered in embarrassment as he walks into Regina’s office. 

“Close the door please, Mr. Locksley, and sit down.” She’s put down her espresso, tucking her black pencil skirt under her stockinged highs as she sits. Robin watches the movement with interest, wonders for a second if she wears garters, but before she looks up, his eyes find something else to focus on intently and land on an unusual  looking jewelry box carved out of wood and adorned with a heart-shaped gemstone sitting on the shallow bit of window ledge behind her. Though he’s looking at the object his mind wanders back to her legs, her thighs, the skirt, and he’s suddenly snapped back to the moment when she speaks.

“Mr. Locksley, let me preface this by saying that what you do in your spare time, and _with whom_ , is entirely your business. Whatever is going on between you and Miss Bell is none of mine except when you are in this office. Then it becomes _my business_. So I give you this warning: please keep your relationship between yourselves and do not bring it here. Have I made myself clear?” She looks at him expectantly.  

Robin’s not sure what’s come over him when he answers her, he only knows that he’s starting to lose his patience. Since she became his boss eight months ago, she’s driven him to the brink of insanity on several occasions. Suddenly everything feels like it’s too much and not enough. He’s having trouble finding the right words, once again distracted by her; the perfume, the outfit, the pout and her look of indignation, the way her hair flips outward off her shoulder. Those damned pencil skirts she often wears showing off toned, tanned legs; the pantsuits that deliciously hug her body, the crimson and burgundy shades she wears regularly on her lips, the enormous yet sexy glasses, or the perfume. It doesn’t matter to him that she’s his boss because in this moment, he’s so aroused by her biting sass because she sounds _jealous_ , making him smirk in amusement that she would think he and Trina are dating, and it appears this only makes Regina angrier. 

“Do you have anything you’d like to say to me or are you just going to gape at me like a fish?” She snaps.

He chuckles, then starts with, “Trina and I are _not_ in a relationship - other than the one we share here, as coworkers nothing more. She’s dating my best friend and roommate, John. She spent the night last weekend and forgot her pants when she got up in the middle of the night.” 

Understanding washes over Regina’s face followed by embarrassment, but she manages to keep it together and offers a noncommittal, “I see.” 

“I spoke to John about it,” he continues, “because I don’t need my son seeing things he doesn’t need to witness just yet, he’s only six years old. Of course, none of this is your business being that the incident in question didn’t happen in this office and consequently do not concern you.” 

Regina visibly angers, eyes widening as she hisses, “I beg your pardon-” But Robin cuts her off, rising up from the seat. 

“I sincerely apologize for the misunderstanding. I shouldn’t have said that to her here. It was unprofessional and I realize it was a mistake. It won’t happen again. You have my word, Ms. Mills-Blanchard. Now, was there anything else you wished to discuss with me?”

She shakes her head never breaking eye contact with him, her cheeks flaming red, a thick vein protruding from her temple. 

“That’s all Mr. Locksley,” she says so quietly it’s almost a whisper, breathing deeply while reaching for her espresso watching him walk away. 

He stops at her doorway and turns. “I do hope you’ll call me Robin someday,” he tells her warmly, his eyes lingering a moment longer than necessary.  

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Regina stares at her closed door, unsure of what just happened. Did she sound jealous? Of course not. She’s _not interested_ in Locksley, not in any way. _Liar_ her mind echoes. Okay, _maybe_ she had thought of him a few more times since that dream Saturday night, but it was nothing. A harmless masturbatory fantasy never hurt anyone. She wasn’t interested, definitely not. He was her _employee_. And a shitty one at that. Which reminded her of one specific thing on her to-do list today. She presses the intercom button and asks Trina to bring her the employees’ file, for everyone. The young blonde knocks on her door and enters several minutes later, the files neatly stacked inside a cardboard box. 

“Where would you like them ma’am?” 

“The credenza is fine Trina, thank you.” 

Regina’s office is modest in size, but like her home it’s also been decorated with elegant style. Everything is white marble with gold accents. There’s a white credenza  adorned with gold designs and hardware sitting off to one side of her office by a floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Brickell Avenue and part of Downtown Miami. There’s only one thing that doesn’t seem to belong: a small wooden jewelry box with a gemstone ruby heart on it her father had given her as a gift when she turned fifteen. Her father had passed away her last year of law school and the box held some of his ashes. She never told anyone about it, believing it would sound morbid to most people, the only other person who knew was Mal because Mal never judged her. She took comfort in knowing a piece of her _Papi_ was always with her, even if it was in this way.

The employee files stay in the box all day, and Regina almost forgets about them until she’s getting ready to leave. She glances over at the box, then walks out of her office to make sure she’s alone. The only person left is Larry Cross, one of the engineers who’s always in a bad mood. “Ms. Mills-Blanchard,” he grunts over at her.

“Mr. Cross,” she nods in his direction before heading back in the direction of her office, her eyes falling on Robin’s desk a few seconds too long. Something catches her eye, and she steps closer to take a look. It’s a child’s drawing held in a black metal frame, showing three men and a small boy. There’s a slice of pizza next to the boy and written above it in crayon are the words “Big Man’s Special.” Regina laughs a little, shaking her head and walking back to her office, closing her door. 

She picks up Robin’s employee file, thumbing through the first few pages of his application and resume. She sees a few interesting things there, like he was captain of his college rugby team, and he also taught archery at a YMCA camp back in New York. She knows just from observing him during staff meetings that he also enjoys sketching in a brown leather journal he keeps in his work bag. She’s often seen him pull it out when he’s stressed and absentmindedly move the pencil across the paper in rapid, short strokes though she’s never taken a close look to see what he’s drawn.

Regina looks back at his application finding his home address. _Wow, that’s a nice neighborhood he lives in_. She wonders how he can afford the mortgage then remembers him mentioning the roommate. Trina’s new boyfriend. 

Still things must be tight for him with a young son. She knows how expensive living here is. _Since when do_ you _care?_ She ignores that voice inside and instead turns his application to the opposite side of his file, does the same with his resume, and gets to his employee evaluations. Everyone at Blanchard Snow, Inc. is evaluated quarterly and Robin’s been here for five, almost six, years so there are several to read through. She recognizes Leo’s handwriting on the pages. She’s been the CEO for nearly eight months now, she’s aware she’s late with evaluations, so she jots down a note in her agenda, reminding herself to ask Trina to start setting up meeting times for each employee. 

Regina looks down the columns and is impressed. Almost every checkmark is in the _Outstanding/Exceeds Expectations_ column, with a few scattered marks underneath _Satisfactory/Meets Expectations_. The comments under _Additional Notes_ all say practically the same thing: Robin is a hard worker who’s always ready to step in and help others without forgoing his own responsibilities. He’s a team player, gets along well with his colleagues, is incredibly bright, shows talent and promise. Would definitely hire as a designer, hope this is the year he’s finally able to sort out his schooling. Always on task, never have to remind him about deadlines, organized, accepts constructive criticism gracefully and asks questions with sincerity seeking improvement in a few problem areas, which, she notes with some amusement and confusion, do not include proposal submissions. Mostly the problem areas are that he often seems lost in thought ( _well that’s not surprising_ , she thinks) and that he spends a little too much time on the phone with clients who call asking for updates. 

Regina’s surprised. This isn’t the Robin _she’s_ been working with. If she had to fill out one of these forms for him, most of the marks would be under _Needs Improvement/Expectations Unmet_. 

If she needed further convincing that his problem is with her, she now believes it without a doubt. 

And she intends to confront him about it. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Roland’s shrieking laughter surrounds the men of the house, Emma chuckling along with him. They’re playing Twister and John’s fallen over for the third time in half an hour. “The hell with this game,” the man says getting up and heading toward his room, looking down at his dinging phone with a smile. Robin doesn’t have to ask; he knows it’s a text message from Trina and he’s happy for his friend. 

“Ready guys? Here we go, your turn this time Killian,” Emma warns before flicking the spinner with her index finger. 

“Aye love, I’m ready for whatever crazy position you throw my way,” he smiles lasciviously at her, Robin rolls his eyes muttering _do you mind mate?_  

Emma calls out the next move and Killian precariously adjusts his current position before stretching his left leg over Robin’s right one and his right arm over Roland’s left arm. They look ridiculous and Emma can’t resist snapping a photo with her phone. 

“That better not go on Facebook, love, or else,” Killian warns her. 

“There! Just for that I tagged you guys, too,” she winks at them, Killian scoffs clearly not as upset with her as he’s pretending to be. 

“Spin it again Emma, it’s my turn,” Roland tells her, and Robin reminds him it’s almost bath and bed time. 

“One more time and then it’s over little man,” Emma says and follows after his groan, “you heard your dad.” And she’s flicking the spinner once more. This time it’s impossible for Roland’s short limbs to stretch where the spinner has directed him to, prompting Robin to declare him the winner (he’s not, but the boy doesn’t know any better) and he stands up cheering and laughing, then high-fives his dad and Killian, thanking them both for a great game. 

“Hey, what about me?” Emma asks him feigning hurt and Roland turns around, flashing his sweet dimples and throwing his arms around her shoulders, squeezing her neck. 

“I thought a hug might be nicer,” he says kissing her cheek. 

Killian clears his throat, whispering conspiratorially to Robin, “You’re son’s a regular Casanova. What’re they teaching him at that school anyway?” 

Robin laughs wholeheartedly, uttering, “That’s my boy!” 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Regina’s working out in her home gym again, breathing through the burning sensation as she lunges forward with two fifteen pound weights, one in each hand. Her cheeks are red and her neck and arms have a sheen of sweat on them. She’s got half her hair up in a ponytail; it’s the best she can do with this cut. Marta her stylist went a little too scissor happy and chopped off more than the usual inch Regina asks for at her monthly salon appointment. Her thighs tighten as she lunges forward, her ass tightens as she moves back. When this set is over, she’ll move on to squats.

She hadn’t been able to stop thinking of Robin since that bizarre dream Saturday night, the one that had come from out of nowhere. No, that’s not true, it didn’t come from nowhere, it came from watching a raunchy scene in _Weeds_. But, she reasons with herself, why _him_? She hadn’t ever been drawn to him before. 

As she moves, she starts a mental checklist. He’s handsome in a rugged way, not like so many of the typical Miami ‘pretty boys’ as she calls the men who are almost demigod-like in that they seem to take as much care in themselves, if not better, than a woman. Pretty boys get their backs fully waxed, sometimes even waxing their chest, and if they’re keeping any chest hair, it’s also waxed and shaped. Pretty boys exfoliate their skin, get mani/pedis regularly, and kept themselves in shape by working out religiously. _Metrosexuals_ , Mal called them; males who were straight but engaged in a level of vanity rivaling some women. 

But Robin wasn’t like that. He wore his hair in a normal cut, keeping the top a little longer than the rest, and kept his short beard and mustache trimmed. His hands ( _when had she seen his hands?_ Regina can’t remember exactly, but she does recall what they look like) are slightly calloused with no sign of having ever been to a manicurist in his life. And if he hasn’t ever had a manicure, then he most certainly hasn’t ever had a pedicure either.

She finishes the set of lunges, dabs her skin with a towel and drinks from a water bottle  and stretches her legs before getting into position for squats. 

 _Okay, so maybe I find him…cute?_ Yes, but no, it’s more than that. He’s attractive, sexy. That British accent is so unique in this city, as are his old fashioned manners. She’s seen him open the door for the ladies in the office every time they have a staff meeting, hell, he’s held her door open for her many times as well. She tries to think of a time where he’s acted with anything other than respect toward her or anyone else at work and can’t remember a single incident. 

Another thing she’s noticed is that he seems genuinely happy when she’s around. It’s only when she opens her mouth to throw a biting remark his way about his job being on the line or sasses him the way she did today after the Trina incident that he visibly tenses but he never says anything, never calls her out on her bullshit. Respects whatever she demands of him, both verbally and with his body language. 

But today in particular, he was exuding a confidence she hadn’t seen in him before. He boldly asserted himself with respect and she had no reason not to believe what he’d said to her.

Then there was that moment right before he walked out of her office, his last words to her today before she got pulled into meeting after meeting and an afternoon of phone conferences. He wants her to call him Robin. Someday.

Could she be this man’s friend? _No_ is her immediate thought. She doesn’t want another friend, she has Mal and that’s all she needs. Besides he’s her _employee_. No matter how attractive she finds him (it’s worse now with all this damned pointless thinking), she cannot let herself feel anything for him. 

The wall must remain up. She won’t go emotionally soft.

Regina puts the weights down, jogs toward the iPad panel quickly bringing up her workout playlist, and in seconds Shakira’s _Chantaje_ surrounds the gym. She smiles lifting the weights in her hands again, lunging forward, putting Robin Locksley out of her mind.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

The rest of the week is pretty uneventful and so is the week after that. Once proposals have been submitted the firm must wait until the everything has been evaluated by the contracting team which then notifies them in writing whether or not they’ve won the bids. 

Robin keeps himself in check at work, focusing on his tasks to the best of his ability. Regina seems a little nicer too; she doesn’t snap at him anymore and he considers it a victory. Friday comes around again and he’s in the lunch room pouring himself a cup of coffee from the pot he just brewed. He decided to stay a bit late today helping out a couple of designers with concepting logos on a project, and it’s now past six, the office is nearly empty and he’s dragging. He doesn’t hear Regina come in but he knows it’s her; he’d recognize that Chanel Coco Mademoiselle fragrance anywhere. Sure enough, he turns to see her standing there and his cock twitches in his pants. She’s not wearing her heels, stockinged feet are on the linoleum floor, the extra height now gone making her seem much shorter than he’s used to. She’s got the black glasses on and this red sleeveless dress accented with a thin gold belt at her waist, her hair in the usual waves around her face. _Focus_. 

“I thought I smelled fresh coffee,” she says sounding almost shy and it’s odd to see her this way. It’s so unlike the way she always is around others - guarded, imperial, regal. 

“Yes, would you care for a cup?” He asks her, turning to retrieve a mug from the cabinet above the coffee station and giving himself a moment to get his head straight. She steps closer to him and he takes a deep breath in. 

“Thank you,” she says, tucking her hair behind an ear and her head lightly tipped to one side as she holds the mug while he pours. “That’s good, thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I’m surprised you’re here late again Ms. Mills-Blanchard. Is there anything I can help you with?” He offers and hopes it doesn’t sound like a double-entendre or like he’s trying to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong. This is work, and she doesn’t know how good she looks right now, almost _too_ good. He clears his throat just to have something to snap his wandering mind back to reality.

“Actually there is. Would you mind helping me bring down the Thanksgiving decorations from the supply room? I would’ve asked Trina but since she’s been out, it’s slipped my mind to ask someone else and it’s Thanksgiving next week. Although there’s probably no point in decorating this late, is there?” 

She’s rambling, he notices. She seems a little nervous, edgy, but he knows better than to push, knows not to press for information she isn’t willing to share.

“It’s not a problem, let me head there now,” he assures her, carefully stepping around her fully aware of the movement of his body keeping it from brushing against hers because he feels something electric with this woman he’s never felt before. Not even with his (soon-to-be) ex-wife. Robin knows exactly where the box is. All holiday decorations are neatly put away in plastic bins at the very top of the shelves in the storage room, each one labeled by holiday in Trina’s handwriting on a neon green post-it note making them easy to find. 

“Where would you like them?” He asks. She tells them to set them down on Trina’s desk and she’ll get to them before she leaves tonight. “Nonsense, I’ll stay and help you put them up. There isn’t much in here,” he says when he opens the bin and looks inside. “We can have it up in just a few minutes.” 

“Okay,” she smiles at him a bit reluctantly, then adds, “Robin.” 

He turns his head abruptly to look her directly in her lovely brown eyes and smiles warmly at her. It makes her smile a little wider. “Thank you.” 

“It’s my pleasure.” 

They work in tandem and just as Robin said, they’re done in less than ten minutes. The office looks a bit more festive than before. He replaces the lid on the bin and returns it to the storage room. “Next week I’ll take them down myself if you’d like,” he says. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting home to your son? Why are you here anyway?” 

“I was helping out designing a logo. I mean, I know I’m not technically supposed to be doing that but I offered to help Larry and Tom with it. Tom sounded like he was coming down with something, he kept sneezing all afternoon. Whatever it is, I hope it’s not contagious,” he laughs. “And Roland, my son, is with Emma.” 

Regina nods at him, surmising, “Your girlfriend.” 

“Oh no. She’s my roommate’s girlfriend.” When she looks at him confusion in her eyes, he clarifies, “My _other_ roommate. Killian.” 

“A grown man with two roommates,” she purrs condescendingly. 

“Well milady, I need them if I’m to afford my home and lifestyle because you don’t pay me very much here.” It’s out of his mouth before he can stop himself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. I just cock up every damn conversation I have you, don’t I? Never mind, don’t answer that. I’ll be leaving now.” He rushes over to his desk, grabbing his keys and cell phone, draping his coat over his arm. 

“I’m sorry, Robin, that was out of line. I am so out of touch with most people, I can barely have a conversation without sounding like a bitch.” She looks at him apologetically and that’s when he notices, really notices how tired she looks. He shouldn’t have said any of that, it makes him cringe at himself as the incident replays again in his head.

“I should go Ms. Mills-Blanchard. Enjoy your weekend.” 

She purses her lips at him and says, “You too. And Robin?” He turns to face her before opening the door. “When we’re alone like this? I prefer Regina.” He smiles and she returns the gesture, slowly widening it and looking less tired and just a bit happier. 

They both hear the _beep, beep_ of a car alarm and curiously exchange looks, both of them still semi-smiling as the door opens and Robin steps back to let in the stranger. 

A man a few inches taller than him steps inside looking at them both. Regina’s expression shifts to bewilderment. “Daniel?” She wonders aloud.


	6. Chapter 6

Saturday afternoon Robin’s alone shooting hoops, trying to calm his thoughts, still feeling a little frustrated with himself. Emma and Killian had taken Roland to a movie, and after they were going to get pizza, ice cream and maybe spend a little time at the arcade. 

The night before his friends had noticed his surly mood when he got home from work and after he’d done the bedtime routine with Roland, he’d tucked him in and kissed him goodnight, telling him to sleep well. “I will. Love you Dad.” 

“I love you too son,” leaning down to kiss his head once more before leaving the boy bathed in the soft glow of his night light.

When he returns to the living room, Emma calls his name and motions for him to sit down. She’s poured him a tumbler with two fingers of… “Is this vodka?” He asks, sniffing curiously. 

“You’re out of beer and whiskey and it was the only thing left in the Man Cave, not counting that bottle of wine you’d been saving from your wedding to _‘You Know Who.’_ Ironically it went rancid and leaked,” she laughs at the irony schooling herself when he returns a menacing grimace.”  

“Sorry, _sorry_. Bad joke. Anyway, I cleaned it up and threw it out—you’re welcome by the way,” she says all in one breath it seems, then she’s leaning back against the couch cushions exhaling heavily. “So. You wanna talk about it?”

Emma Swan is not a woman who minces words. She’s blunt and in your face about it, but she means well. He wasn’t sure about her when Killian had started dating her last year but in that time they’ve gotten to know one another and she’s been a savior when it comes to watching Roland after hours when Mary Margaret isn’t able to and he’s stuck at work. She never accepts any form of payment, always shrugs her shoulders and says Roland’s paid her back with plenty of hugs, kisses, and sweet dimpled smiles. 

Still Robin finds it hard to open up about this. He’s not even sure what to think. Regina is an enigma, and the last few weeks at work she’d been _different_ toward him. A little less sassy, a little more kind. He felt anxious about it, wondering if she was preparing to fire him in a nice way or if she was being sincere. She had no reason for either based on what little he knew of the woman. They seemed to have been flirting on a few occasions, last night she’d seemed a little softer until the snark returned and she made that comment about him needing to live with two grown men, at which point Robin had lost his temper and let her have it, and he uttered words he’d immediately regretted because they were incredibly rude and unprofessional. He should be thanking his lucky stars Regina hadn’t fired him on the spot; who in their right mind throws their feelings about their salary in the boss’ face so ungraciously? Idiots like himself, that’s who. He no longer knew what Monday morning held in store for him, or whether at this time next week he’d be job hunting. If he’d only kept his bloody mouth shut. 

Then there was that man who’d shown up when he was trying to leave without inserting his foot further into his mouth. He didn’t stick around much longer after Regina had said his name, Dylan? No, Daniel. He’d excused himself and left, wishing both a good night. 

“Where’s Killian?” He asks her. 

“He got called in on a job, but we know something’s up with you so he asked me to stay and talk. We’re worried about you. You seem more anxious than usual.”

Robin slowly looks over at her and starts his story. He leaves out the part about what her body looked like, the skirt hugging her curves in all the right places, the perfume that drives him wild, the glasses, and that she’s barefoot. And he most definitely doesn’t mention that moment where she’d let her guard down just a little bit with her asking him to call her Regina when they’re alone. He doesn’t want or need Emma teasing him about how interesting it is that he’s noticed all of those little details about his boss yet he vehemently denies any attraction to her, even if at this point his friends are in unanimous agreement that he’s in denial and that he definitely wants more from his boss. But he doesn’t need to rehash that bullshit tonight, that’s his personal business and if and when the time comes for him to address it, his friends will not be a part of that. 

Instead he tells her about him throwing his salary back at his boss and Emma’s jaw drops open. “Are you insane? What got into you?” She asks him stern and annoyed. 

“I know, I don’t need the lecture believe me. I’ve been mentally kicking myself since last night and I… I don’t know what I’m going to do, Emma. I don’t know what next week’ll bring,” he says quietly, dejectedly, bringing the tumbler to his lips taking a drink. “It was fucking stupid of me. I didn’t think.”

“Well I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but…you need to talk to her as soon as you can. Do you have her phone number?” 

“Yes, we all have each other’s cell numbers in our address book, but it’s for emergencies only you know, for inclement weather or things like that.” 

“Robin, _this is_ an emergency. You fucked up, you’ve got to fix it. Your family’s depending on you. Even if you had another job waiting in the wings, you don’t want to burn your bridges with this one. You’ve worked too hard. See if she’ll meet with you,” she suggests. Suddenly his worried expression returns and he stands, body full of adrenaline, it’s all pent up nervous tension and energy demanding release. She’s right, though; he cannot lose this job without having explained himself, begged for forgiveness for his stupid careless comment. “Look if you don’t want to meet her personally, then text her. I’d try to apologize directly, face to face, so there’re no further misunderstandings and that way you can tell her how damn happy and grateful you are to be working at Blanchard Snow.”

He nods in agreement, and she gets up, pulling her car keys out of her jeans pocket. “Anyway, if you need to talk or vent, I’m here.” 

Robin looks confused for a second before he remembers, “That’s right, Killian’s working.”

She laughs, “Man, you’ve got it bad. What’s it been, five minutes since I told you? Nevermind,” she smiles at him. “I’m gonna go home and finally crack open one of my Lush bath bombs,” opening her arms for a hug. 

He steps into them and hugs her back tightly. “Thank you Emma, you’re a savior.” 

She pulls away from his embrace and looks him in the eye. “Nah, I’m just a good friend,” she laughs. “Let me know how it goes, alright?” He nods and she steps away from him, both walking toward the front door. “Oh hey before I forget, Killian and I want to go see the new Disney Pixar movie, but we feel a little weird going without a kid, so can we take yours with us tomorrow around four in the afternoon? We’ll even feed him and return him safe, happy, and tired enough to go to bed. It could be a great opportunity to talk to you boss, get back into her good graces?” She winks and nudges his shoulder with her own. 

“I’m not sure I’ve ever truly been in her good graces Emma, but nevertheless Roland would love that. Thanks again. For everything.” 

“No problem. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” 

He’s exhausted but his mind is going a mile a minute, replaying what happened at the office, then his conversation with Emma, so before showering later that night, Robin takes two Tylenol PM to make sure his mind doesn’t keep him awake over this screw up. He needs the rest and obsessing over it, over whatever possible scenarios that could play out aren’t going to help him in the least. Hell, for all he knows Regina probably didn’t even give it another thought after he left. 

When he gets under the covers, the sheets are cool and welcoming to his heated body, slowly warming as he drifts off gently into a deep sleep.

Robin doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep but he wakes to the feel of silky hair sliding smoothly across his torso and lips dotting kisses downward. _Did he fall asleep shirtless?_ He can’t remember. The faint perfume he knows so well is the giveaway as to who’s in his bed. _Regina._ Her hair is as soft as he’d imagined it would be, her lips tongue hot, teasing and sucking, dropping kisses, nipping at his skin slightly, torturously, languidly. She’s taking her time with him and he can feel his arousal growing, taking a deep breath in and a heavy, loud exhale out. She’s making her way down toward his cock, already hard in expectation of what’s next. She deftly hooks her fingers into his pajama pants and pulls, sliding them all the way down and taking his underwear off along with them until they rest at the foot of the bed. He’s lying there, naked with a raging hard-on and the most magnificent woman he’s ever met, the one who’s gotten under his skin in such a short period of time, the one who his subconscious is convinced he belongs with, is apparently getting ready to take him into her mouth. 

Robin’s mind goes blank when her lips finally make contact, enveloping the tip of his cock, lowering her mouth ever so slowly down his shaft. “Aaaahh, love,” he breathes out, “That’s it, it’s bloody perfect. Suck me.” Her tongue is sweet torture, licking his shaft then flicking his frenulum swiftly like a butterfly. “Mmmm,” she moans and the rumbling sensation of her throat gives him goosebumps. He cradles her head, softly scratching at her scalp through the silky strands of hair, resisting his primal urge to force her head down so she can take him further, take all of him at once. She’s working up to it, he can tell, because on every slide down she’s definitely taking him in a bit deeper, until finally he can feel the exquisite tightness that is obviously her throat and when she moans now, his tip weeps with precum which she swallows and goes back  up the other way, slowly, slowly. “Regina,” he gasps quietly, continuing to scratch at her scalp, resisting that urge to push her head downward again, and it’s so hard not to but he manages, gasping instead, pressing his head back into his pillow as her mouth starts to slide downward, teeth ever so delicately grazing him, teasing, torturing, it’s sinful, her tongue sliding all around his shaft once again. If this were his deathbed, Robin would say it’s the best way to go. It’s sweet, delectable torture having her suck him off. It’s so erotic and he can feel his balls beginning to tighten, his ass clenching upward involuntarily; he’s trying to bring himself in deeper, in as gentle a manner as he can. He hears her chuckle and her voice has a breathy rasp to it, when she asks, “Do you like it?” 

“I bloody fucking love it, you’ve no idea how amazing it feels having your mouth on my cock, sucking me. Take it again love, take it deeply, I beg you,” he urges her. 

But instead of feeling her lips, he feels a hand on his cock. It’s not bad but he misses the wet heat of her mouth, when it suddenly dawns on him that it’s his own hand and he’s… _Awake._ Fuck. _That was a fucking dream?_ Holy shit. He’s so turned on it literally hurts, so he wastes no time stroking himself just the way he loves, the way he imagines if it were _her_ stroking him. He’s so far gone guilt doesn’t even enter his mind. Robin closes his eyes, lips fall open on a quiet moan, his pace speeds up, adding a flick to his wrist mid-shaft and all the way to his tip. This won’t take long, not at all. He comes in less than a minute, gasping as hot trails of semen shoot out and hit his navel. He continues to stroke himself, the last of his semen dribbles down his cock onto his hand. He breathes deeply, trying to slow his heart, waits a few moments more as the tingle of the orgasm leaves his body feeling pleasantly numb before reaching over for the tissues he keeps on his nightstand. How he wishes he wasn’t alone right now, but he doesn’t want just anyone. Robin wants _her_. 

“I’m fucked,” he tells himself quietly. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

And that’s what’s been on Robin’s mind practically all of Saturday afternoon since he said goodbye to his son and friends; being outside with his son’s basketball in his hands, shooting hoops trying to think about how he’s going to extract this woman from his psyche. He’s already pulled his phone out several times, scrolling through the contacts until he lands on Regina’s name but something always keeps him from pressing her number. He bounces the ball a few more times before tossing it toward the hoop, the ball swooshing as it goes through the net then bounces off the pavement. _You’re being ridiculous, the longer you put this off, the worse it’ll be. Pretend it’s a band-aid and just get it over with._  

He walks back toward the garage, not even sure why. He’s alone; John’s at Trina’s and staying there the rest of the weekend. No one’s going to interrupt him. 

Robin takes a deep breath, presses her number and brings the phone up to his ear. It rings four times and as the fifth ring starts, her voicemail picks up. _“You’ve reached the voicemail of Regina Mills-Blanchard. At the sound of the tone, leave a message and I will return the call at my earliest convenience.”_ BEEP! 

He's unprepared, wasn’t expecting her voicemail to pick up, so naturally he’s stuttering like a bumbling fool. “Uh, hello, Regina, um _sorry_ , Ms. Mills, Ms. Mills- _Blanchard_. Er, sorry. This is Robin Locksley, and I uh… I uh… Mmm…” _Think man!_ , he chastises himself, _or just hang the fuck up before you embarrass yourself further_. “Sorry. I was wondering if I might meet you later to discuss something. It’s about work and I’d prefer not to wait. I can meet you wherever you’d like. If you’re available that is. Thank you.” And he ends the call before saying anything else, preserving as much of his dignity as he can. _Smooth, real fucking smooth._

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Roland is dropped off at home around eight that night, happy and obviously worn out. “Did you have a good time with Emma and Killian?” Robin asks him cheerfully. 

“Uh huh! We got popcorns at the movies and Emma put milk duds in them,” his son exclaims enthusiastically. 

“Ah ha, so that explains the tail end of the sugar rush,” he laughs, “And Roland, it’s pop _corn_ , not ‘popcorns’ son. I’m glad you had a good time. Now head to your room and start getting out of those clothes, young man. I’ll start the bath.”

Of course this request rarely happens without resistance, making Robin irritable because Roland _never_ behaves this way with Emma or Mary Margaret. 

“But Daa-aad, I’m not that dirty, see?” He says holding up his arm for Robin to sniff it. 

He indulges the boy by taking a whiff, then another, then a third and Roland’s eyeing him, mouth slightly open wondering if it’s worked. 

“Hmm, you’re right my boy. However,” he starts.

“Noooo, not however, Dad! I’m clean, honest! I don’t need a bath,” Roland insists. 

Robin, being no stranger to his son’s persuasiveness sticks to his guns and shakes his head, “I’m afraid you do. House rules, son, we all take showers before bed. Every day, no matter what.” 

Roland stomps off in the direction of his room, grumbling about how unfair it is, how he’s not _that_ dirty anyway so why should he bother, and he’s _definitely_ _not_ washing his hair tonight.

Robin sighs loudly. He knows how to pick his battles so he doesn’t bother saying anything since Roland is doing what he was told, but he still silently wishes he had a partner to share the parenting responsibilities with. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

It’s after ten and he’s out on the porch nursing a beer enjoying the warm breeze. If there’s one thing he doesn’t miss about living in the northeast it’s the weather. This time of year is still lovely back in New York with leaves changing color and everyone starting to get into the holiday spirit, but knowing that it’s only going to get colder and colder for months to come, and that he’d still be having to get up earlier just to shovel his car out of the snow some mornings is a very welcome reprieve from his years in the northeast. That part of it he doesn’t miss. 

Roland gave him no trouble after he was in the tub. His boy was something else; he loved him with his whole heart but some moments were difficult to tackle as a single father. Thank goodness for his friends, for people that cared enough to know when he needed a break and who’d step in and help without issue. He thinks of Marian, not for the first time wondering how she was able to extricate herself away so swiftly, so easily. She couldn’t have ever truly loved him, but his heart aches when he thinks of Roland. Did she ever love her son? 

His phone chirps suddenly from the small table next to him, breaking him out of his thoughts about his ex. It’s a text message from Regina. He opens up to read it:

 _RMB:_ _Got your message and couldn’t reply until now. Is it too late to talk?_

_RL: Not at all, but as I said in my voicemail, I’d rather it have been in person._

_RMB: Oh. Is everything alright?_

_RL: Yes and no._

_RMB: What are you doing right now? Can you meet me somewhere?_

If only. It’s apparent his boss has forgotten he’s got a child. Otherwise he’d be agreeing immediately because spending time with her on a Saturday night after that dream he’d had last night has his cock stirring up again in his pants. 

_RL: Unfortunately I cannot. I’m home, and Roland’s asleep. I’ve no one to watch him._

Robin stares at the screen expectantly, knowing she’s typing something because three small dots appear in the message window. Perhaps he’ll have to wait until Monday sometime, whenever she’s free.

_RMB: I’m leaving the Grove right now. Would you like me to stop by?_

His heart is suddenly racing and his cock twitches. In any other circumstance he’d laugh at himself and how pathetic it is that she’s causing this reaction in him—with an innocent text message.

_RL: I’d hate to trouble you, make you go out of your way._

He knows she lives near the Grove somewhere, and he’s a bit further north. 

_RMB: It’s no trouble. I could use the drive to clear my head. What’s the address?_

Robin texts it to her, then quickly finishes off his beer when her last text says she’ll be there in about half an hour. He goes into the house, takes a cool shower, and grabs fresh clean clothes, the towel draped over his midsection while he brushes his teeth then gargles mouthwash. Thankfully no one is there to give him any shit about it. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Regina texts him her location, letting him know she’s at the red light a couple of blocks from his house. He hurries to the front door so she won’t ring the doorbell and possibly wake up his son. A few minutes later, he hears the sound of an engine and her Mercedes SUV is in sight, slowing down and pulling into his driveway. 

All of a sudden, Robin is fucking nervous. He wishes he’d had more to drink than just the one beer, but it’s going to have to do to take the edge off. He watches her get out of the car and his mouth goes dry. 

His boss, Ms. Mills-Blanchard, _Regina_ , is wearing an incredibly tight, short black dress with a gold zipper that goes down from her right hip to just above mid thigh. She opens the back door behind the driver’s seat and pulls out a duffel bag, then closes the door, locking and arming her vehicle. When she steps up onto his porch, he can see her  dark makeup, eyes rimmed with black kohl and shimmery dark gray that accentuates her lovely brown eyes, making them seem almost hazel. She’s opted for a nude, bare lip tonight instead of the striking dark lipsticks she usually wears at work. Her legs are smooth and bare and Robin realizes this is the first time he’s seen her dressed like sex on a stick without her corporate armor on. If he’d been out on the town and had run into her, he’d have died trying to convince her to come back home with him—or at the very least, have gotten her phone number and wouldn’t have been able to keep to that ridiculous three-day waiting period rule. 

“Hey,” she says to him, smiling, “I was out with some friends of mine, would you mind if I changed out of these clothes? I’ll be right back and we can talk about whatever it is you were concerned about.” 

“Yes of course,” he says trying not to let the disappointment show. “The powder room’s just here, let me show you,” and he gestures toward it, only a few paces from the front door. 

“Sorry, we had just gone for dinner and drinks, and then they wanted to go dancing but I wasn’t in the mood,” she tells him stepping into the small half bath and placing her duffel on the counter. “I’ll just be a couple minutes.” 

“Okay.” He’s disappointed, he can’t help it. He knows it’s completely inappropriate, he knows he shouldn’t say a word, but he’s looking down at his feet, biting his lip to keep from saying the wrong words and she can tell he’s got something on his mind. “To be clear,” he starts, “are we Robin and Regina tonight or shall I refer to you as I do at work?” 

She scoffs, then laughter starts bubbling up in her chest. _Hmmm, interesting, she’s never this unguarded._ “Well, considering I’m standing in your home about to change out of my dress, I think it’s safe to say that tonight we’re Robin and Regina. Is there a problem?” She sasses. 

Damn woman. He’s laughing before he can stop himself, licking his bottom lip then biting it, and he doesn’t miss the way she laughs as well, holding his eyes with her own, slipping a little to look at what his mouth is doing. 

“I’ll be right out,” she says closing the door. Robin hears the click of the lock. Right then. He walks to his kitchen, which is now thankfully stocked again. He begins slicing some cheese, spreading pieces out on a plate with a few small bunches of red grapes and a handful of Carr’s crackers. He’s not sure if she’d like a drink or if she’s done for the night and would prefer water. The door to the powder room opens and she calls out, “Robin?” 

“In here,” he pops his head from the kitchen so she knows where to go. She’s dressed in tight blue jeans and a thin strapped red tank top, holding a light gray cardigan in one hand. _Fuuuck. She still looks just as delectable as she did in that damn tight scrap of zippered cloth she called a dress._ She smiles at him, sliding an arm and then the other into the sweater and he’s staring. _He’s staring. Get it together man!_

“This is nice, but totally unnecessary. You shouldn’t have gone through the trouble,” she says. 

“It’s my pleasure, and it’s no trouble at all. Would you like some wine or bottled water or…?” He catches himself before he offers her one of Roland’s juice boxes. 

“Actually do you have any tea?” She asks almost a little embarrassed. 

“I do. I’ve got oolong and orange spice. Which would you prefer?” 

“The orange spice please, and thank you.” 

Robin isn’t going to bring the kettle out for one cup of tea so he microwaves a double-walled mug and lets the tea steep for several minutes before he loads everything onto a tray and carries it to the dining room, but once there he offers, “Would you like to sit outside?”

“That sounds nice, sure.” 

She’s very agreeable tonight, pleasant. Her sassiness is still present but it’s playful, flirty? _NO_ , he firmly keeps himself in check.  

He leads her back out to the porch, placing the tray with food on the little table and gesturing for her to sit down. 

“So what’s on your mind? You sounded weird in the message,” she notes with some amusement. _Has she been drinking?_  

Robin takes a deep breath before he speaks. “Regina,” he starts, and it feels incredible to finally say her name and know she’s not going to snap and demand that he refer to her by her last name. For the first time he feels like he can be real with her. “I wanted to apologize for what I said yesterday at the office.” 

“What specifically?” 

“When I said that you didn’t pay me enough for me to pay my own mortgage, after making fun of the fact I live with two other men.” 

“Wait,” she says her eyes opening in realization, “That bothered you.” She states it as a fact, not a question. 

He nods. “I’m afraid it did and I…snapped. I shouldn’t have. I would never imply that I’m not happy working there, that despite all of my shortcomings since you became CEO at Blanchard Snow, I’m not cognizant of the fact that I owe you a debt of gratitude for continuing to keep me on staff, and so, I’m sorry. Truly.” 

Robin waits for her to answer, but instead she says nothing, holds her mug in both hands and blows gently to cool the steam. He gives her a few moments as she takes small sips of her tea but then he can’t help it when he says, “Have you nothing to say?” 

Regina shrugs. _This is bizarre_ , he thinks. It is so unlike her. He was expecting her to sass him, or to act sternly in some way suggesting he never pull something like that again or it would be the end of his career at Blanchard Snow. It’s unnerving because this isn’t the norm between them. 

And just like that he’s mad. Downright _pissed_. He’d been worried sick about this for the last twenty-four hours and all she has in response is a fucking shrug? He’s bolts up out of the chair and clutches the porch railing tightly, knuckles turning white, his jaw is clenched. 

“I can see you’re upset, though I’m not sure why,” Regina starts.

Robin’s had enough, _enough_ of this damn woman. He turns and at this moment, everything he’s just said to her in earnest and with sincerity is moot because once again despite his better judgment he snarls, “Do you have any idea how I’ve been feeling since I left the firm last night? You don’t, do you, and you couldn’t be bothered either because unlike me, your life is made easier thanks to everything Leopold left you, isn’t it?” 

It’s out, he’s fucked up once again. A flash of hurt is followed quickly by her own snarl. “Don’t pretend you know anything about my life. You know nothing about me. You think just because I’m the CEO, I’ve got it made, don’t you? You couldn’t be more wrong. I _hate_ being CEO. I’d much rather be practicing law arguing cases in court, talking to witnesses, even sitting in on depositions which normally attorneys hate instead of babysitting a bunch of idiots all fucking day long. Is this what you called me for Locksley? For _this_ shit?” 

Robin’s not sure when it happened but they’re suddenly standing so close together their bodies are almost touching. There’s a charge in the air; neither can explain it but it’s there, gripping them both like a vise as they stare each other down, breathing deeply, fists clenching at their sides when without warning their arms are around each others waists and their lips crash together almost painfully as they both moan in unison. Mouths open, tongues tangle with one another, there’s a sound of teeth gnashing. Devouring her, he wants to devour her entirely and given her response, he can tell she wants to do the same to him. He pulls her even tighter against him, one arm still around her waist the other sliding up her back and into her hair, which is as silky and soft as he’d suspected. He cradles the back of her head and she angles it slightly to the right, mouths moving from a frantic hurried pace to something more languid, enjoyable, erotic. Regina’s arms move from around his waist and up his chest, caressing, exploring, then her hands are gripping his shoulders, sliding toward the back of his neck where her fingernails start gently raking his hairline and into his scalp. Their mouths haven’t broken from one another, they’re breathing deeply through it, tongues massaging each other. Robin is hard and no way, no way can this end without some kind of satisfaction, some kind of release. His arms have traveled back down her back, pressing along her spine until both hands rest on her ass, which he cups firmly, bringing her closer so she can feel his erection through their clothes. 

Their first kiss feels like it lasts an eternity and yet it’s over too soon. Regina’s the first to pull away, stepping out of their embrace, chest heaving, she drops her hands then one comes up as an afterthought to touch her tingling lips and she stares at him dumbly. 

“I should go,” she says quietly, still breathing fast. She’s as affected by him as he is by her. 

Robin thinks quickly, reaches for the hand by her side and pulls her toward him. “Regina,” he breathes, his eyes are half closed and his nose slides tenderly against her cheekbone, ending in a gentle bump against hers, “Don’t go. Please. Stay.” 

“Robin,” she whispers, “This can’t happen.” 

“Why?” He demands and he tightens his grip on her hands. He wants to know, _needs_ to know if what he’s feeling is one-sided, he needs to hear her say it because right now every fiber in his being is screaming at him that it’s not, that she feels _something_ for him too, and he wants nothing more than to explore that immediately. 

“Because,” she says pressing her forehead to his, pulling her hands out of his hold, stepping backward, creating some distance between their bodies. “I’m seeing someone else.”  

 


	7. Chapter 7

She’s lying. There’s no way there’s someone else, not after _that_ kiss. Never in his life has he experienced a kiss like that, not even with Marian. He waits for her to say something, but she’s silent, standing a bit awkwardly when a moment ago she had been sucking his tongue while his hands groped her ass. Finally she meets his eyes. “I have to go.”

Robin wants to wrap his arms around her again. There’s a cold emptiness now that she’s no longer in them. “No, you don’t. We should…talk about this. I don’t know about you, but there’s no way that didn’t—”

“Don’t say another word, Robin,” she stops him. “That can’t happen again and that’s final. It’s my decision. If I’ve done anything to lead you on, I’m really, really sorry. Excuse me a moment.” She goes into his house and comes back out with her duffel bag, keys in hand. 

“Regina, please. Don’t go.” He shouldn’t, should not be invading her personal space but the pull she has on him now, especially after _that kiss_ , is like an earth magnet. He approaches her tentatively, looks down into her face, searching her eyes and when she finally makes contact, she licks her lips and presses them together. He takes a chance, keeping some space between their bodies, his hands come up to caress her arms, sliding downward from her shoulders to her hands. 

“Robin,” she exhales softly, tilting her head up toward his, “I can’t let you get mixed up with someone like me. My life is…very complicated right now. Besides, we work together. I can’t have something like this become office gossip, so please, this time _I’m_ begging _you_ , please let me go and forget this happened.” 

He’s watching her intently hoping she’ll do something unexpected, something that’s so un-Regina like; that maybe she’ll laugh, say she’s kidding, or maybe she’ll do something like jump into his arms, and wrap her arms and legs around him, pressing into his erection again, kissing him like she had been moments ago because despite what’s happening right now, there is no way in hell he’s ever going to forget what happened here tonight. “Can’t we please talk about this? About us?” 

She scoffs at that, obviously irritated, but she composes herself once more before firmly repeating, “I have to go.” It’s firm and Robin wishes the earth would swallow him whole. Instead he nods, stepping back making it clear he’s not going to stop her from leaving. “I’ll see you at work,” she calls out as she descends his porch steps and walks to her SUV, tossing the duffel bag onto the passenger seat. 

Robin watches her drive away with a heavy heart. If his anxiety has been bad the last day and a half, right now he feels like he wants to crawl out of his skin. He recognizes the signs too, and before he can stop himself (months of therapy, it turns out, have helped him after all), he starts moving. It’s what he needs right now and Dr. Hopper has always reiterated during sessions that one of the most constructive, non-medicinal ways to deal with anxiety is to exercise, to move, to get the heart and blood pumping. Almost on autopilot, Robin picks up the tray of food he’d set on the table, brings it back inside and puts the untouched food in the fridge. Then he heads to his Man Cave, where sitting in a corner is the treadmill he’d bought Marian after she’d had Roland (she’d complained that having a baby had made her fat). Fuck Marian. 

He steps up onto the treadmill, keeping his feet on the sides off the belt as he keys in the numbers. When it’s set to a normal walking speed, he hops on the belt and gradually turns the setting up until he’s running. _The hell with warming up_ , he thinks. He’s already on fire and wants to feel his lungs burn.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

_Eight Months Ago_

Regina hadn’t had to make any choices. Everything for Leo’s funeral had been previously arranged with meticulous detail by the newly deceased himself. She’d only had to decide what to wear on that cool March day. Mal was accompanying her in the limo to the wake, and would be there by her side for the burial. Leopold had explicit instructions that it be a closed casket affair. He’d exuded a level of vanity while he was alive and he didn’t want his friends, family, or business associates to see what cancer had done to his body, turning his once lean, muscular physique into a withered, wasted shell of the man he once was. 

She thinks about how their marriage was in the beginning. Leo was always so attentive and loving, making sure she always had anything her heart desired. There was only one source of contention in their marriage: her career. And even now after his death, she couldn’t bring herself to feel any regret over all of those lost years spent arguing over her proclivity to practice law. She’d never be sorry for that, and she wondered if Leo had ever sincerely wanted to make her happy because if he had, he’d have found a way to compromise and be content, even if it meant there’d be many times when he’d  have to miss his wife. In fact, that was his go-to argument: _‘I miss my Queen,’_ he’d often say, cradling her face in both hands, dotting kisses along her jaw tenderly. And though she’d laugh the argument would inevitably start when she gently reminded him, _‘Honey, I have work to do.’_ And then they were on a literal minefield, having arguments that lasted hours, then slowly over time they bled into days, weeks, months, years. She tried to tell him many times that it wasn’t because she didn’t love him, but he would spin the argument back around, always bitter because, as he’d said often, she loved him but she loved practicing law _more_ , and since it was true and she wasn’t ever going to do what he wanted her to, Regina refused to back down from her dream. It only pushed her to work harder, and Michael Midas, Esquire took notice of her tenacity and her talent. As her career began to flourish, her marriage dwindled. 

It was during those difficult moments of their marriage, the ones when Leo wanted to control that part of her life but soon found out he couldn’t, Regina often recalled her mother’s story, the only one where the words had been burned into her soul, along with one of the best pieces of advice her mother had ever given her.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Back in Cuba, Cora had been a young dance instructor in her early twenties who’d shown a lot of promise. Her future looked bright; she was young, beautiful, talented and she worked hard to be where she was. 

Until she met Henry Mills. He was staying at the hotel where Cora taught guests how to dance salsa. 

Henry was in his late thirties, visiting the island on vacation. He was handsome, confident, and swept Cora off her feet. When he met Cora, he was smitten and he made plans to visit Cuba more frequently now that this amazing woman was in his life. On his fourth trip to the island in less than a year, he took a chance.   

_“Cora,” he pled her one night, “please come back to Miami with me. I have plenty of money, I own a house, and you wouldn’t have to dance with tourists to make a living. I can take care of you, of us.”_

_“But Henry, I love dancing, it doesn’t matter to me that I’m dancing with tourists. It’s not a burden, my love, it’s my_ passion _. And I love it so much I would do it for free,” she smiles._

_He looks imploringly at her. “Don’t you love me?” She did, of course she did._

_“You know I do. But it’s a big step and we barely know each other. My father’s here, we have no other family. It’s just..it’s too much too soon. I’ll…I’ll think about it.”_

_“That’s fair,” he says, kissing her cheeks, then her lips, laying down with her on his bed…_

Thankfully Cora would stop the story there, wouldn’t continue with details not meant for her daughter’s young ears, because as Regina got older, she figured out what had happened that night: Cora had become pregnant with her. Although she didn’t leave with Henry that time, she eventually did leave when she found out she was having a baby, and wrote him about it two months later. It was the only night they’d been intimate since they’d been courting.

_“I had to leave my life behind,” Cora would say with tears in her eyes. “My dreams. Everything.” Cora’s mother, Ava, had died giving birth to her, and her father, Xavier, never remarried, choosing instead on raising his daughter as best as he could._

_“But Mami,” nine-year-old Regina wondered, “why didn’t you keep dancing when you got to America?”_

_“Ay mijita, I couldn’t. When I told your Abuelo Xavier that I was leaving Cuba, that I was moving to Miami to be with your father, he…” Cora couldn’t ever finish the story. Her lip would tremble and then she’d start sobbing uncontrollably. When Regina would ask what was wrong, she’d only hug her daughter tighter. A few nights later, while Cora  was drying her hair, Regina sat on her father’s lap._

_“Papi,” she whispered quietly, “why doesn’t Mami dance anymore?”_

_“Mi vida, she doesn’t dance because she_ can’t _. When your Mami told her father that she was moving here to be with me, he hurt her.”_

_Regina’s lip trembled like Cora’s did when she was about to cry. “What do you mean, Papi? What did he do to her?”_

_Henry sighed loudly, pressing mute on the television. “Your grandfather was angry that your mother and I had fallen in love and she wanted to be with me. He thought she wanted to leave him for me. She never got to tell him that I had been making arrangements to bring them both to America. And because he was in pain about her leaving him, he chose to hurt her.”_

_She’s suddenly not sure she wants to hear the rest of the story, but her curiosity gets the better of her and she asks again, “Papi, what did Abuelo do?”_

_“He broke both her legs, mi vida,” he tells her with tears in his eyes. “And despite physical therapy and rehabilitation, your mother’s bones had already started to calcify by the time I got her out of Cuba…”_

_“So she never danced again,” Regina finishes for him and Henry nods. “That’s why she sometimes walks with a cane, isn’t it Papi? She tries to hide it from me, saying it’s just a  little sprain.”_

_“I’m afraid so sweetheart. Your Mami went through hell to get to me. After she told me she was pregnant with you, I immediately got to work on obtaining the documentation to get her out of Cuba, to bring her here, to bring you_ both _here,” he says holding her closer, explaining the story in full detail. “When I didn’t hear from her for two weeks, I  was worried sick. I didn’t know what to think, so I booked the first flight out of Miami International I could get on, went to Cuba again, and when I found your mother…” Henry stops, clearly needing a moment before he could continue. “When I found your mother, her legs were in such bad shape, I didn’t know how I was going to get her the help she needed. Your Abuelo Xavier was so upset that he beat her legs with a baseball bat. Miraculously he didn’t hurt any other part of her body, because I’d have killed him myself had your Mami lost you. She spent most of her pregnancy in a wheelchair with casts on both legs, and later in physical therapy. Your mother was never able to dance again,” he finishes solemnly, wiping the tears streaming down his daughter’s cheeks. “I shouldn’t have told you mamita, I’m sorry.”_

_“No Papi I’m glad you shared Mami’s story with me. Now I feel like I understand why she always tells me to pursue my dreams.”_

_That night when Cora went in to kiss Regina, the girl hugged her mother tight, whispering ‘I love you Mami.’_

_“I love you too, mi amor.”_

_“Mami?” Regina said tentatively, “I know the truth. About what Abuelo Xavier did to you. Papi told me.”_

_Cora’s eyes welled with tears. “Why did he tell you that?”_

_“Don’t be mad Mami. I asked him. I’m so sorry you went through that, just for me. I hope I can make you proud.”_

_“Mamita you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I love you so much, so very much. You already have made me very proud. But, do you know what would make me the happiest woman on earth, happier than if I had been able to dance again?”_

_“No, what?”_

_“I want to see you study, to work hard for and never give up on_ your _dreams. Don’t ever let any man stand in the way of doing what makes you happy, Regina, no matter who he is. Youth and time are things you can never get back, and regret is too heavy a burden to spend a lifetime living with.”_

Cora was killed in a fatal car accident four months later, a drunk driver hitting her car head on.

Regina, who’d always kept a diary, wrote down the story and memorized her mother’s words.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Her mother’s story accompanied her through every difficult moment life threw her way, and she strived to make her mother proud, wherever she was. _Papi_ , or Daddy as she started calling him when she got older, was diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer’s and Regina was now facing the possibility of having to sell his house and put him in a home after he’d left the gas on. She remembers how it had happened too, it was a Saturday and she had been out running errands. She usually went over on Saturday afternoons to visit with Henry, spend time talking to her father, sometimes playing dominoes with him like Cora used to. But that day, thankfully she’d arrived within minutes because Daddy had laid down for a nap and forgotten about the omelette he was going to cook. The problem was that he’d turned on the burner on the gas stove but forgot to light the flame. When Regina arrived, she noticed the smell, and panicking she turned the burner off, holding her breath and opening windows and doors, turning on the ceiling fans. Regina called his neurologist that week, asking him if he would please keep her in the loop on her father’s condition. The kind doctor agreed to meet with her several months later, showing her Henry’s scans in his office, explaining how his brain was deteriorating. Regina was going to lose her father piece by piece.

Leo had been there for her, in those moments when she’d felt helpless to do anything for Henry. “We’ll find the best place for him to be properly cared for,” he’d told her. “You’ll have nothing to worry about.” And she was so grateful for her husband’s understanding. 

Until one day out of the blue, Leo asked her if she’d come to a decision on homes for Henry. She hadn’t yet, she told him, she was weighing the pros and cons of the ones she’d looked at, and figuring out what the monthly expense would be or if it would be a better option to pay annually, when Leo said, “Money is no object, Regina. After all, I’m the one paying for whichever home he ends up in.” 

 

That did it. She stood up enraged, her voice going up. “Why should you have to do that?” She snapped. “My father has enough money, we don’t need you to pay for anything!” Ironically, Leo said nothing that time. He only gave her a sympathetic nod, but she could have sworn she saw something else cross his eyes. She was so furious, she didn’t ask, instead grabbing her purse and keys, saying, “I’m going out for a while.”  

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

_Henry Mills came from money. His grandparents, Salvatore and Antonia, had emigrated from Italy in the early 1900’s, settling in Pittsburg where Sal worked two jobs in the railroad and steel industry, and in order to get more work, the couple came to an agreement to have their last name legally changed from Melis to Mills. Antonia began working independently, making breads and pastries, but the couple had a knack for business, and soon Sal was being mentored by none other than Andrew Carnegie, becoming one of the philanthropist’s most valued business associates. Seven years after they’d arrived in Pittsburgh, Sal was able to buy his wife a house and a bakery, and now, though he still worked hard, Sal had only one job. They continued to live below their means, never flaunting their wealth, always saving and investing chunks of their income. Sal and Antonia had three sons, Sal Jr., Anthony, and Henry, and a daughter named Sofia, who died from tuberculosis when she was only four years old. Henry went into the Army when he was old enough to enlist, and died before his twentieth birthday during the war. Sal Jr. was Regina’s grandfather._

_Before they’d retired, Sal and Antonia had acquired a few million dollars through investments alone, and had over $175,000 in cash savings._

_Regina’s great-uncle Anthony ended up leaving Pittsburgh and moving to Texas to work in the oil fields, where his parents’ good financial sense followed him there because he too became independently wealthy. The Mills were a family accustomed to hard work, living frugally, and saving a portion of every dollar they earned. This is how they’d raised their children, and how they’d built their wealth; slowly and over time._

_Anthony never married. His family suspected that he was homosexual, but no one brought it up because back then same sex orientation was taboo. After his death in 2006, Regina and Henry traveled to Texas and learned about his secret when, while going through his possessions, they found several shoe boxes containing old love letters from someone named Charles Williams, and photographs with yellow-weathered edges showed her handsome uncle when he was young and robust posing next to another man, often standing close together. One taken at the Coney Island Pier in New York, another taken in front of the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, and yet another had them on a beach. Regina turned that picture over and read her uncle’s handwritten words in faded blue ink: Anthony and Charles, Sunny Beach, Galveston, 1942.’ Uncle Anthony was 26._

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Regina’s snaps out of the haze of her family’s memories when Mal knocks on the door, stepping into the room. “The limo’s downstairs, Regina. Are you ready to go?” She nods and follows her out. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

She feels out of place at Leo’s funeral, having to shake so many people’s hands, some of whom she hadn’t seen in years, including many of Leo’s business associates whom she’d never met. They all offer their condolences, words of encouragement and that they’re deeply sorry for her loss.  

The next several days are a blur. After Leo’s burial,  Mal insists on accompanying her to her meeting with that asshole attorney of his, Spencer Gold. 

Gold sits down at a table in one of his firm’s conference rooms, taking great pleasure reading Leo’s last will and testament out loud to her, as Mal’s nostrils flare and her jaw clenches in fury, her hand squeezing Regina’s hand underneath the table to show not only her anger but to let her best friend know she has her back. 

The will is preposterous; in order for Regina to keep all of her possessions as dictated by the premarital agreement they’d both signed, any of Regina’s possessions that she’d acquired with her income during their marriage are her property except in the event that anyone related to her by blood or marriage borrows money from the  Estate of Leopold Blanchard. In the event such a loan is drafted and signed, all interest would be paid in the form of her property including any monies earned, and in the event such a loan went into default, all of Regina’s property, _everything_ , would automatically become the sole property of Leopold Blanchard and his estate. 

Then there was the clause dictated originally in their premarital agreement which stipulated that in order for her to keep everything and not be sued—including monies kept in their bank and investment accounts that she had been contributing to during their marriage; properties and assets they’d acquired (a few of them they’d even acquired _together_ , damn him)—she was required to do two things: the first was to resign immediately from Michael Midas, Esq. and Associates and the second was to take over as Chief Executive Officer of Blanchard Snow, Inc. and it all had to happen within the first fifteen business days of Leo’s interment. If she failed to meet the criteria, she’d be in violation of the will and a potential lawsuit would be drafted immediately, Gold told her smiling like a demon.  

Regina feels as though she’s been hit by a truck. She’d never questioned that clause in their premarital agreement. Having come from money herself, she’d known Leo had only drafted it as a safeguard so she’d had no problem signing it after reviewing it. After all, the only living relative she had was her father who was wealthy himself, so she went ahead and signed it, laughing at Mal when her friend warned her she shouldn’t have done that, she should have told Leopold to remove such an asinine clause from their premarital agreement. How she wishes now she’d listened to her friend.

She recalls that day, how she rolled her eyes and waved Mal off, insisting she didn’t know Leo the way Regina did. 

At the time she reasoned she could always talk to Leo about amending the agreement  to remove the clause. Surely no court would honor it, and she naively believed their love was true, and he’d never do anything to hurt her. But he did. Hindsight is always 20/20.

When it came to her career, Leo was willing to do whatever it took to manipulate her into doing what he _wanted,_ and in the end, it appeared he’d won. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Henry’s money had paid for Regina’s undergraduate degree and her Juris Doctorate, but Henry had had a secret that he kept from his daughter until the truth was revealed and Regina felt for the first time in her life, a sense that she no longer knew any of the men who claimed to love her so much. 

Henry began drinking after Cora was killed. He kept it well hidden for many years, but that wasn’t the worst of it. He also gambled, and on a Saturday afternoon, when Regina showed up for her visit, she found him sitting at the dining room table, tears streaming steadily down his face, the table full of papers. 

“Daddy, what’s the matter? What’s all this?” Regina asked, looking around at the mess. Picking up a paper, her eyes scanned the document and her expression swiftly began to harden when she looked through several other papers—prima facie evidence of the trouble her father had gotten himself into. He’d gambled away _everything_. Even the house, which he’d bought in cash back in the 1970’s, had a lien on it. His credit was trashed and all that his grandparents had worked for was gone. 

But the biggest slap in the face, the one that had knocked her world off its axis, was the paper with the Blanchard Estate’s elegant monogrammed letterhead on it. She picked it up, ignoring the rest of the collections letters, her jaw dropping open in disbelief. _“You borrowed $500,000 from my husband!?”_ She roared. 

Regina had never felt the way she did in that moment. The rage bubbled out of her as she continued screaming at her father, who sat there meekly with his head in his hands, sobbing, “I know, _mi vida_ , I know. I’m sorry, _mamita_ , I’m so sorry…” 

She left him sitting there like that, but before she left, her lip curled in disgust when she told him she couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. She would talk to Leo about all of this tonight at dinner, get him to change that clause immediately come hell or high water.

Never did she imagine, though, that that would be the last she time she saw her father. Henry shot himself in the head minutes after she left.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

After Henry’s suicide, Regina became depressed and withdrawn. She stopped sleeping with her husband, now realizing what Mal had tried to warn her about before. She wanted to hate Leo but several weeks after that, they’d received the news about his cancer, and she knew she was about to lose not only her husband but everything else too. 

Leo had the good sense not to gloat around her; his illness didn’t really permit it. Regina took pleasure in watching him deteriorate, the bile rising sometimes when she’d look at him in disgust, wondering how she could have ever loved such a monster. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

She’s driving home from Robin’s house, her mind replaying what just happened, getting jumbled and tossed around with her own memories. _If only it would just stop_ , she thought. She needs something to quiet the memories, to relax. She could always go back to Robin’s; he’d obviously been into her if that kiss was anything to go by, but Robin was different. She feels something for him, though she’s not sure what. She’s got this feeling in her gut, telling her not to bring him into her mess of a life. So she does something else entirely, pulling into an empty parking lot, wiping her tears with a tissue and takes several sips of water from the bottle she keeps in her car while grabbing her cell phone out of her tote. She scrolls through the contacts until she finds the number she’s looking for. She presses the name, bringing the phone to her ear. “Hey,” she says when the voice answers, “Can you meet me at my place in fifteen minutes? I’m driving there now.” She waits for an answer, then says, “Alright,” and hangs up, before taking another calming breath, putting the car back into drive and heading home.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Regina’s only been home for two minutes, her duffel bag full of clothes still by the entryway, when the doorbell rings. She opens the door and he steps inside, grabbing her face with both hands, kissing her before she can say a word. He closes the door behind them with his foot and they’re soon gasping and moaning as he walks her to her bedroom. It’s not who she really wants—it’s not Robin. But she needs to shut her mind off for a while, she needs _this_.

And Andrew Graham Humbert, or _Andy_ as she and Mal call her favorite bartender, never asks questions and always makes her come. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

She wakes with a start. Andy’s lying naked next to her sound asleep, snoring lightly, his legs tangled in her bedsheets. She stands up, donning the satin robe draped over the back of the vanity chair and walks quietly to her study, shutting the bedroom door behind her. 

She powers on her computer, glancing at the time. It’s just after four in the morning, and Andy, she knows, will be gone by five as usual. She puts on her glasses and starts searching through case law on LexisNexis, determined to find the loophole that will reverse that fucking clause in Leo’s will if it is the last thing she does.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

The Sunday morning sunlight comes in through the blinds in Robin’s room, and he blinks away the sleepiness. He’s alone in his bed this morning, Roland must have been really tired to have stayed in his room, and he stretches out in bed, legs sore from his run last night. He sighs heavily, turning on his side, thoughts of Regina’s lips, arms and his hands full of her ass pressed up against him filling his head. She’d kissed him without reservation, putting so much passion into it—there’s no way in hell any of it was fake. And then the last words he’d ever imagined coming from her lips at the most inopportune time: that she was seeing someone else. _Who the fuck is this wanker?_   Robin knows that if Regina was his, he’d never in a million years let her go out looking the way she did last night by herself. He’d be with her, unable to keep his hands off her and counting down the minutes until he could peel off her clothes and get her very naked and very wet. His cock jumps to attention at the very thought. “Great,” he says aloud, his voice raspy and sleep-addled, taking one of the extra pillows and covering his face with it, trying, rather unsuccessfully, to put all thoughts of Regina out of his mind.

Damn woman.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

“Dad, come on, aren’t you ready yet? Let’s go!” Roland calls to him from the entryway. Robin’s in the kitchen packing some snacks in their picnic basket. Roland had been begging him to take him to the Alice Wainwright Park the whole week, and Robin had finally relented Thursday night, promising that as long as the boy finished his homework and chores, and with the condition that when Robin told him it was time to go, Roland wouldn’t put up a fight, he’d take him on Sunday. His son had nodded enthusiastically, his curls bouncing up and down as he jumped, excitedly shouting, “Yes! Woo-hoo! Alright!” 

If he were being honest, the last thing Robin wanted to do that day was go to some park. He’d rather have spent the time finishing his and Roland’s laundry for the week, packing his son’s lunches, and just relaxing before having to face Regina again. He still didn’t know if she was going to pretend like nothing had happened between them, which is what her words led him to believe. But he knew he wasn’t going to leave her alone, not until he got an explanation that didn’t sound like a bullshit excuse. 

“Alright, I’m ready. You’ve got your kite?” He asks his son, who holds it up. “Great, let’s go then.” 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Robin finds a bench that’s unoccupied and also, mercifully, in the shade. He sits there, placing the picnic basket next to him while Roland plays. It’s a beautiful day out, sunny and breezy but still pleasantly warm for the weekend before Thanksgiving. It’s very relaxing being outdoors like this, watching his son play while the winds sway the palm trees gently to and fro. He’s relaxed for the first time since Friday night, and he’s wishing there was a weekend between this particular weekend, just a couple of extra days to relax and fully unwind from all the stress he’s been under. 

Something catches his eye and he swears under his breath, cursing his luck. Standing by one of the food trucks at the far edge of the park is none other than Regina only she’s not alone; she’s laughing at something the man standing next to her has said. _Daniel_ , he recalls, that man who’d walked into the firm the other night just as he was leaving. _So this must be the wanker she’s seeing. Seriously?_  

Robin means to look away but finds he can’t, his eyes focus on her. Minutes pass by as he continues to stare at them, gobsmacked, his pulse racing, body heating. He wants to punch something. He barely shifts on the bench when her eyes lock onto his in shock and recognition. She says something to Daniel, and the man turns to look over where Robin is sitting as she waves at him. He nods at them, then bows his head, keeping it down, silently pleading _don’t come over here_ , _do_ not _come over here._ Luck isn’t on his side though.

“Hello Robin,” she says once she’s a few feet away from him, Daniel trailing behind her. She’s holding one of those freshly squeezed lemonades in one hand and she looks incredible as usual. Her make-up is soft today, making her look much younger than she is, and she’s wearing black shorts and a thin red V-neck t-shirt. Robin is taken aback by how casual yet striking she looks, her long tanned legs are on display and she’s got a pair of black Chucks on her feet without socks, he notes with some amusement. But what completes the ensemble (and it’s an outfit and look he’s _definitely_ going to catalog for future fantasies) are those sexy, thick-framed black glasses that make her look like the good, sweet nerd girl he desperately wants to turn bad. 

Daniel smiles at him then looks over at Regina, putting his arm around her shoulder. Robin wants to punch something. 

“Hello,” he smiles instead, standing up, taking the two remaining steps to get to her, to _them_ , her and _Daniel_ , he tells himself. He’s not sure what to do; it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours since he’s last seen this woman, that wonderful moment when he had her glorious ass in his hands and her tongue in his mouth that he wishes more than anything would happen again. “I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met,” he remembers his manners, ignoring the jealousy, and extends his hand to Daniel. “I’m Robin Locksley, I’m the executive assistant at Blanchard Snow.” 

Daniel takes Robin’s hand, both gripping a little too tightly, a knowing look on each other’s faces, but he doesn’t break contact. “Daniel Colter. I’m an old friend of Regina’s.” 

She clears her throat and says, “Daniel and I went to law school together.” 

“Oh Regina,” Daniel chuckles, “That’s not all. We dated all three years of law school.” 

“Did you now?” Robin asks, a tight, forced smile appearing on his face. “Three years is a long time. And yet you married Mr. Blanchard?” He turns to her, looking her straight in the eye. 

“I’m afraid I let her get away,” Daniel says with sincerity, and Robin notes the slight regret in his voice. Regina looks down, smiling. 

Robin is burning. It’s all very uncomfortable and he wants to leave but he and Roland have only been there half an hour. It wouldn’t be fair to his son, not even with their agreement about Roland not putting up a fight when Robin decides it’s time to leave. He isn’t going to sacrifice his son’s fun for his bruised ego. 

Just then Roland jogs up to the adults holding his kite. “Hi!” he says cheerily. “I’m Roland.” 

Regina squats down, extending her hand out to him. “Hi Roland, I’m Regina. It’s so nice to finally meet you. Your Daddy talks about you all the time,” she smiles warmly. 

“He does? What, like embarrassing stories?” He asks her, and she’s amazed at the ease with which a six-year-old boy breaks the awkward tension among a trio of adults. 

“No,” she laughs, “Nothing embarrassing. He’s told me you like going camping and I know you like to draw. I’ve seen your artwork.”

Roland brightens at this. “You have? Which ones?” 

“It was just one. Hmm, let me see if I can remember it. Oh yes! It was you and your Daddy and some other friends I didn’t recognize, and there was a slice of pizza next to you and it said _‘Big Man’s Special_ ’ on it. Ring any bells?” She winks at him.  

He gasps in awe. “That’s our favorite pizza! Uncle Killian says the sausage is so spicy it’ll put hair on my chest, and it has—look!” He pulls his shirt down enough to proudly show her a small bit of his chest, making her laugh in a way Robin’s never heard her laugh ever. It even seems to catch Daniel by surprise. “See it?!” 

“I do,” she says, her laughter subsiding into chuckles. “That’s pretty impressive. I should probably stay away from the _‘Big Man’s Special’_ then, huh?” 

“Oh no, it doesn’t do anything to girls,” Roland explains. “Emma eats it with us all the time and she doesn’t have chest hair.” 

“Okay son,” Robin finally interjects. “Why don’t you keep playing, otherwise I’m going to believe you’ve grown bored with the park and want to go home, yeah?” 

Roland looks at Robin, then Regina and Daniel, turns and drops the kite on the bench by their picnic basket, and takes off running toward the playground, stopping halfway there to turn back to the adults and calls out, “It was nice to meet you!” Before he’s back and running in the direction he was originally going in.  

“Well, we’re gonna go too,” Regina says. “We have reservations at Zuma.” Daniel smiles down at her while she looks up at Robin. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yes, of course. Enjoy the rest of your weekend,” Robin smiles at her then looks at Daniel, “It was very nice meeting you.” 

Daniel nods, “You too,” then turns to go, Regina looking up at Robin one last time before she also turns around.  

He watches them walk away, watches Daniel place his hand on the middle of her back. The urge to punch something hasn’t left him. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Robin makes it to the office before anyone else the next morning. He sits down to catch up on unanswered emails from last week, and makes some coffee. It’s been a peaceful and productive hour of work before the rest of his coworkers start arriving, the quiet soon forgotten with the usual office noise, most of it friendly chatter about what they did over the weekend. He doesn’t even realize someone’s talking to him until Trina approaches his desk. “Robin, you okay?” 

“I’m fine Trina. What’s up?” He asks glancing at her then immediately looking back at his computer screen. 

“Nothing. It’s just I’ve asked you twice how your weekend was and it seemed like you were ignoring me. Anything on your mind?” 

“Just work is all, and the weekend was fine. I finally took Roland to Alice Wainwright Park yesterday.” 

“Yes, John told me. And did you boys have a nice time?” She asks. 

“We did, thanks. How about you?” Robin asks her. He doesn’t really want to talk right now, he wants to focus on work and not on the fact that any minute now Regina’s going to walk in. 

“You keep glancing at the door,” Trina remarks. “Are you expecting someone?”

“No,” he answers quickly, “Not at all, just… After the other day, I’d rather know when the boss comes in so she doesn’t catch me in another conversation with you,” he laughs, “I don’t want to get in trouble again.” 

“Oh that,” she says nervously. “She told me what happened and I also apologized. But you don’t have to worry. She texted me earlier; she won’t be in today.” 

He wasn’t expecting this and suddenly he’s not sure what the hell he’s feeling. Relief? Disappointment? 

“Robin?” Trina chuckles, “What’s going on with you? You look like someone just told you they ran over your puppy.” 

“Nothing, Trina, it’s nothing. I just didn’t sleep very well last night and I’m trying to catch up on work is all. Good news about Ms. Mills-Blanchard though, that means today I can work on my tasks without any new ones coming up.” 

“I’m not so sure Robin, she did mention that she would text us this afternoon with a few specific things she wants taken care of before she comes in tomorrow. Anyway, I’ll let you get back to it. Talk to you later.”

He nods at her, returning once more to his work.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

The rest of the day drags on for Robin. He leaves his cell phone face up on his desk the whole time as he works, glancing expectantly at it every so often. Around 4:30, he goes to the restroom, then walks around the office for a bit, stretching his legs. Larry and Tom stop him on his way back to his desk to ask who he thinks will win Monday night football that evening. Robin shrugs and reminds them, “Guys, I don’t watch American football. I watch _real_ football,” then laughs as he watches their expressions turn surly. “I’ve got a few more things to do before I leave, I’ll talk to you both later, yeah?” 

They poke fun at him for being so British and Larry calls out, “American football _is_ real football, brother!” 

When he sits down, he’s still laughing until his iPhone screen lights up with a text from Regina. 

 

_RMB: Robin, I need you to call Arthur Knight’s assistant and have them email us their newest business development form since they won the bid with our firm for the new restaurant going up in Aventura, please and thank you._

_RL: That was taken care of this morning. Ashley sent me the form and I’ve saved it in the Aventura project file._

_RMB: What about the meeting with Tremaine? Is that still set for Thursday at Downtown Bistro?_

_RL: The reservation has been made in your name for two at noon. Anything else?_

 

He’s being short with her and he knows it. It’s childish and petty but he really doesn’t care right now. He was expecting her to text him about _them_ , about what happened, not just about work.

 

_RMB: Is everything alright? You sound upset._

_RL: I’m impressed at your attempt to pick up on emotion via text message, but to answer your question, no, I’m not upset._

_RMB: Really? So you’re just acting like a prick with me on purpose?_

_RL: Ms. Mills-Blanchard, I’m not sure I understand what you mean. You’ve asked me questions about work and I have answered them to the best of my ability, have I not? In what way does that make me “a prick?”_

 

He puts the phone back on his desk, face up so he can see whether or not she’s going to answer. The screen fades to black after a couple of minutes. _Sod it_. If she insists on acting as if that kiss never happened the other night, he’s going to play right along with her and prove he can be a prick when pushed. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

That night Robin’s home watching the game after all with Killian and John. His friends are hollering at the screen after certain plays, and Robin has to remind them to keep their voices down since Roland’s asleep. When Killian teases him about his dark mood, asking if he’s got lady troubles, Robin’s murderous look silences the man straightaway. John, having known him longer, knows better than to ask. 

He feels like a bloody fool. Just like he’d felt when Marian announced she was leaving because she was no longer in love with him and hadn’t been in a long time. He was sitting on the chaise longue of his sectional couch, his bare feet propped up before him and his eyes half closed. John gets up to grab a beer from the kitchen, asking if either of them want one. Killian says yes but Robin declines. He’s feeling tired and decides to shower before calling it a night, leaving them in the living room. 

After his shower, Robin walks back to his room swabbing his ears with a Q-Tip, his towel draped low around his hips. Someone knock a few minutes later. “Come in,” he calls out. 

John sticks his head in the door. “Robin, you have company.” 

“At this hour? Who the bloody hell is here?” He asks and John opens the door the rest of the way. Regina’s standing next to him. “Oh.” John nods and leaves, and she walks into his room, trying not to stare and finding something on the floor to look at so her gaze doesn’t fall on Robin wearing nothing but a towel. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“Would you mind getting dressed please? It’s distracting, seeing you like that. Maybe I’ll should wait outside instead.” 

“No,” he says. “I’ll just put on some pants, hang on,” he grabs a pair of sweatpants from his dresser drawer and pulls them up expertly underneath the towel then grabs a t-shirt and pulls that over his head. No longer needing the towel he hangs it around his shoulders. “Better?” 

Regina takes a deep breath and nods, then walks a few steps toward him. 

“Robin, I want to be honest with you and I feel I owe you an explanation. What happened the other night was amazing and yes, it did make me feel certain things toward you, but…” 

His first instinct is to reach out to her, to hold her, but he fights it and remains standing where he is. “But what?” 

She sighs, “This is a lot harder than I thought it would be.”

He takes a step closer to her, now fully standing before her close enough to touch but keeping his hands to himself, the other night having already proven how easy it is for them to lose control. “Try me,” he tells her quietly.

“I don’t _do_ relationships.”  

“Okay. What exactly does that mean? I thought you were seeing someone else.”

Regina looks down, embarrassed. “That’s my cover, my go-to excuse whenever someone tries to get close to me. The truth is, there’s no one else, and there hasn’t been anyone else for a long time.” 

Relief floods him and he looks up at the ceiling, closing his eyes as he says a silent prayer of gratitude, of hope. Then he brings his head down level with hers and asks, “Then would you mind telling me what’s really going on? Because I’m confused. After the park yesterday, I was sure the _someone else_ you were seeing was that Daniel person.” 

“No, we’re just old friends, nothing more,” she laughs, sitting down on his bed and he sits down next to her, taking the towel and tossing it in the corner so he can turn and look at her. She looks back at him, shyly tipping her face down for a moment and when she brings it back up, a lock of hair has fallen in front of her forehead. Before he can stop himself, Robin caresses it out of the way, allowing his fingers to trace down her temple then her cheek. She closes her eyes and breathes him in. When she opens them again, he’s even closer. “Want to go for a drive?” she asks, “We can find somewhere to talk.”

“Mmhm. Let me tell John and Killian to listen out for Roland and I’ll meet you outside.” And before he gives it any further thought, he pecks her lips quickly then stands and walks out of his room. She follows him but heads to the front door instead, letting herself out and climbing into her Mercedes. Several minutes later, Robin comes out of the house, locks the front door and climbs into the passenger seat of her SUV. She notices he’s changed into a pair of Dockers and a button down shirt and he smells like soap and fresh linen. “So where are we going?” 

“You’ll see,” she smiles, starting the engine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your kind messages! I'm honored you're enjoying this story because I'm enjoying writing it.


	8. Chapter 8

Regina and Robin head east into the heart of the city, stopping at a liquor store along the way to pick up a bottle of wine, two waters, and a set of overpriced wine tumblers. Regina pulls up to the garage of a high rise, pressing the button of a small thin box on the visor of her SUV as the gate rises up to let them in. She parks all the way at the top. 

They get out, Robin holding the paper bag with drinks in his arms. “Where are we?” he asks. 

“This is a penthouse I bought last year, before Leo died.” _Before Daddy died_ , she wants to add but doesn’t, punching a code to a door that leads them down a long hallway, where she stops in front of an apartment door numbered L15. Regina places her left thumb on a pad, and Robin hears a quiet _beep_ before she opens the door and lets them in. “I haven’t had the time to furnish it yet so please excuse all the empty space. It does have amazing views, though, and it’s private.”  

“You _bought_ this?” He repeats, trying not to sound impressed but failing. It’s enormous, over 2,000 square feet easily, larger than his whole house. It’s empty as she said, except for a bistro set he sees on one of the terraces. As he walks from room to room, he notes in awe: each has its own terrace. There’s also a stairway that undoubtedly leads to a second floor; this place is a castle. The view is breathtaking. Floor to ceiling windows in every room boast killer views of the Miami skyline. He’s willing to bet you can see all the way to Fort Lauderdale on a clear day.

“Robin?” She calls out, his name echoes in the vast emptiness, and he returns to the kitchen just off the entryway. When she sees him, she laughs. 

“What is it?” 

“We forgot to buy a bottle opener,” she shakes her head. “Got the tumblers, got some water, but we forgot one important item.”

Robin had seen a Target literally across the street from her building, so he offers to pop over and buy one, and she tells him not to worry about it. 

“You’re sure?” 

“I am. Come, let’s sit outside,” she tells him, grabbing the two waters and walks over to door leading to the terrace with the bistro set. He slides it open for them, and they step outside. 

Curiosity gets the better of him and he walks up to the railing, a sudden dizziness overcoming him the moment he looks down. Maybe it’s better they won’t be drinking. They are pretty high.

It’s windy and a little chilly, which makes sense considering they’re on the 33rd floor. He’s glad he wore a long sleeved shirt, and Regina who’d grabbed a black blazer from her car, is now slipping her arms into the sleeves. 

They look at each other for several moments, and there’s that charge again neither can explain except to know that it’s there. But he doesn’t want to push and apparently she’s not going to either. 

Robin decides to break the tension first. “So, you’re having a business luncheon with Ms. Tremaine on Thanksgiving Day? I must admit when Trina reminded me to book it this morning, I thought they’d tell me they were closed, but apparently not.” He pulls her chair out for her and after she sits, he sits opposite her. Close but not close enough to be touching.

“Holidays are of little importance when there’s business to be run, Robin. Unfortunately that was the only day Tremaine was available, and we need her architecture firm to team with us. So I’m going to try convincing her she should join us,” she says looking away a moment. She doesn’t like feeling, or appearing, vulnerable and lately in front of Robin, Regina’s been feeling both. She can’t say she regrets starting to get to know him better, but she’s not at all sure of the way it’s making her feel. She never felt this way about Daniel, and certainly not Leo, not ever. Not even with Andy, but he’s just a fuck buddy and therefore she doesn’t count him.

“Is this your way of saying you don’t celebrate Thanksgiving, or that you don’t celebrate _any_ holiday just for the sake of being available should a work commitment arise?”

“Both?” She offers a bit awkwardly, shrugging her shoulders once. “Are you as uncomfortable as I am right now?”

He looks at her quizzically. “Should I be?” 

“I don’t know. Lately you seem full of surprises, and I’m not sure what to expect from you.” 

“Surprises? Me?” He repeats, a playful smirk appearing on his lips. She nods. “Care to elaborate?” 

“Why don’t we try something. Have you ever played two truths and a lie?”

“No, but it’s self-explanatory, isn’t it?” he smiles.

“Right,” she laughs. “Okay, you start. Tell me three things about yourself, and I’ll guess which one is the lie.” 

“Regina, I thought you wanted to talk.”

“We are. I just… I need to relax a bit. I’m a little tense.”

“If you’re tense, my expert fingers are at your service. I took a massage course back in New York.” 

“Interesting,” she quips, raising an eyebrow. “But I think I’ll pass right now. Let’s focus on the game. Tell me three things.”

“Alright,” he starts, closing his eyes and when he opens them again, he looks into her lovely brown ones. “It’s a lot harder than I originally thought.” 

She purses her lips at him in annoyance.

“Fine. I drink two cups of coffee every morning. I salsa dance. And… I once jumped out of an airplane,” he finishes, leaning back into the chair.

Regina laughs, “That’s easy because I’ve seen you drink more than two cups of coffee at the office so that’s the lie.”

Robin shakes his head, laughing. “Afraid not, milady. I said every _morning_ , not every day.”

“That’s a mere technicality.” 

“Yes, and _technically_ you’re wrong. Care to make another guess?” 

“Salsa dancing then. I can’t picture it,” she says. “That’s the lie.”

Again, he shakes his head, chuckling, reaching for his water bottle. “I’m afraid that’s also a truth,” he tells her, taking a few sips of water.

“How on earth do _you_ know how to dance salsa?”

“You wound me! Is it so hard to believe that the uptight British man might have some moves?”

“Oh I have no doubt that you do, I’m just having a hard time picturing it. And for the record, I’ve never referred to you as uptight.” 

“Hang on.” Robin pulls his iPhone from his pocket, bringing up his videos. He turns the screen over so she can see it, then presses play. Regina recognizes the sound of Celia Cruz’s voice singing _Azucar Negra_ and her jaw drops in disbelief because sure enough, there’s Robin dancing with a leggy, long-haired blonde, shaking his hips, keeping time with the music and looking confident and sexy as hell as his legs move expertly and he twirls the blonde. “You seem surprised,” he says when the video ends, putting his phone back in his pocket.

“I am. You don’t seem like the type who’d know how to dance like that.”

He scoffs at her. “I’ll have you know, I took salsa lessons for several years. I could probably teach others if I wanted to. Anyway, it’s _your_ turn. Two truths and a lie.”

“Alright. I can bake a pie from scratch, I have a dog named Lola, and I’ve worn glasses since I was six.” At the mention of her glasses, his face lights up with a giant, shit-eating grin. “What’s so funny?”

“I find your nerd glasses very fetching. Sexy, as a matter of fact. Now, as far as which one of those is a lie, I’m going to go with the baking.”

“Nope. Ironically enough, the lie _is_ about my glasses. I only just got them a few years ago, when I was 27.” 

“Did you? Well that’s even better than trying to picture you as an adorable little girl in glasses. I can picture you dressed like you were at the park yesterday instead, or better yet, in that criminal dress with the zipper that ran from your hip to your thigh.” 

“I had no idea you’ve been paying such close attention to my outfits. So which one is your favorite?”

“The game is two truths and a lie, Regina, not twenty questions.” 

She chuckles. It’s like they’ve been doing this for years, they’re so at ease with one other. “Fair enough,” she says, and they’re looking at each other again, their laughter subsiding into flirty smiles. “Robin, you’re not at all what I expected.”

He leans forward, and taking her hands he bites his lip, asking in a hushed voice, “I do hope that’s a good thing?”

Regina nods, smile still in place. “It is. I’d like us to be friends.”

He looks down at their hands, he starts playing with her fingers, and says, “I see.”

“Hey. Please don’t take it the wrong way. I’ve been honest with you. My life _is_ complicated right now. And I don’t want to date someone I work with. You have a son,  and your own troubles I’m sure. I don’t want to bother you, or anyone, with mine.”

Robin looks into her eyes and answers, “What if I _want you_ to bother me?”

She’s stunned, doesn’t know how to respond. He senses it, decides to let her off the hook. Changing the subject he asks, “So how many floors does this place have?” 

Regina smiles at him, touched at his ability to sense she was a little uncomfortable with the direction their conversation was headed, and though she knew that they’d be back there at some point, either tonight or in the future, she was glad for the reprieve right now. 

“Three. The top floor is actually a rooftop terrace with a pool and a jacuzzi.” 

“That’s what’s above us?” 

“Yes. Well, above the bedrooms, actually. Those are directly above us.” She smiles at him, and it dawns on her: tonight is the most she’s smiled in a really long time. She’s grateful for his company, for his playful fingers now intertwining with hers, then releasing them, making her skin all tingly.

He drops his head down as if he’s just missed an incredible opportunity. “Had you mentioned the jacuzzi when we were still at my place, I’d have grabbed my Speedo,” he deadpans.

Regina laughs so hard, she accidentally snorts, making them both double over. “Please tell me,” she says between breaths, “that you don’t actually _own_ a Speedo?” 

“You don’t believe I could pull it off?” 

“I’m not saying anything,” she smirks. 

“I’m joking.” 

She shakes her head, not breaking eye contact with him, her fingers now absentmindedly playing with his. “I like that we’re getting to know each other like this, Robin.”

“Me too.” 

And then that electricity is back between them. He leans in closer, his eyes are almost closed and he sees her tongue peek out and lick her lips. Robin can feel the ghost of those lips, recalling from memory what they felt like the other night and he’s aching to kiss her again. And they’re just about to do just that when he hears the muted ringtone of his phone coming from his pocket. Of course, _of course_ his bloody phone would start ringing right now. He’s going to murder whomever is calling, and pulling the phone from his pocket once more, he sees it’s home and answers it immediately. Something must’ve happened with Roland. 

“Hello?”

“Mate, sorry to interrupt,” John says. “Roland got up and went to your room, then got scared you weren’t in there so he started crying out for you. Killian and I got him to settle back down with some warm milk, but he’s still awake. Says he can’t sleep until his dad gets home.” 

Robin sighs audibly, closing his eyes and opening them again before answering his friend. “Alright John, thanks. I’ll be there as soon as possible,” he hangs up.

“Roland okay?” Regina asks him. She’d let go of his fingers when his phone rang so he  reaches for her again, hooking their index fingers together by their knuckles while brushing her knees with his other hand.

“Yeah, he just woke up asking for me. Refuses to fall back asleep though John and Killian tried. I’ve got to get back home,” he explains regretfully. “I can take an Uber so you don’t have to drive me.” 

She shakes her head vehemently. “Don’t be ridiculous. Let’s go.”

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

The drive back to Robin’s is quiet. It’s like the bubble they were in previously popped and now he wants to get it back but his time with her like this is coming to an end; he’s got fatherly responsibilities to contend with so he pushes his feelings down, not wanting to give into them. Regina pulls up in his driveway, parking next to his Accord. Without giving it any thought, he reaches over and takes her right hand from the wheel, bringing it to his lips where he kisses it, repeatedly, dotting kisses over each knuckle. “I’m really glad you came to see me tonight. And I’m happy we talked. But Regina,” he takes a breath before he goes on. “You should know something: this conversation _isn’t_ over. It’s only just begun. I’m not going to give up trying to pursue you because I know there’s something between us,” he pauses, before adding in a lower tone, “and I know you feel it too. Even if you’re too damned stubborn to admit it. Now, I’d invite you in…”

She looks down then back at him. “But you won’t because you’ve got to go in and handle Roland. I understand.” 

Robin sighs audibly. “If there was a chance, after he goes back to sleep of course, that we could pick up where we left off at your penthouse earlier— _exactly_ where we left off at your penthouse—would you be willing to come in?”

Regina’s taken aback. What is this man doing to her? In less than a month, he’s gone from being a bundle of wound up nerves to this confident, sexy, witty man who makes her smile often, and damn those blue eyes and dimples; that combination along with all of his other qualities becoming evident the more she gets to know him will be the death of her. And the more time she spends getting to know Robin, the more trouble she’s having justifying her reasons for not getting involved with him. 

She’s lost in thought and he picks up on it, giving her one last kiss and says, “Never mind. You’ve got a lot going on in that head. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

And right when he puts his fingers around the door handle to exit her SUV, she reaches over and grabs the front of his shirt, pulling him toward her and kissing him hard. 

A current of electricity runs through them both, that same charged sensation that had him wanting her as close as possible, wanting to devour her, the way he wants to again right now. Robin brings his arms up, one hand cradles the back of her head and the other presses her back, pulling her as close to him as he can. Like the last kiss, it starts off passionately, deeply, mouths open in an instantly, tongues searching, reaching and caressing one another. Regina wraps her arms around his ribs and pulls him closer as well. 

Robin only breaks the kiss for a moment to ask, “So. Would you like to come in?” before his lips continue their assault on hers. 

She slowly, slowly starts to pull back, her kisses becoming sweet pecks on his lips, his cheeks. “We both know I shouldn’t.” 

“See, I disagree. I think we have a lot more to discuss and we should do it as soon as possible, don’t you?” His hands are caressing her face, fingers tangling in her hair and then he’s tilting her face so he can drop kiss after sweet kiss on her lips, which she returns but then pulls back again, pressing her foreheads to his. “Regina. What are you doing to me,” he asks her in awe.

“I could say the same about you.” She kisses him again, just soft, sweet pecks, even dropping one on the tip of his nose before pulling herself completely out of his embrace. “But I won’t because right now, your son needs you. And it’s late. _And_ we both have work in the morning so…” 

He nods. “You’re right. Good night Regina.” 

“Night Robin.” 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Robin walks into a dark, quiet house. Everything is off except for one light coming from the kitchen. He walks into Roland’s room, and when he opens the door, his son is sleeping soundly, curled in his bed toward Killian who’s on the floor beside the bed,  with his eyes closed and his back against the wall. 

“Mate?” Robin whispers. 

Killian opens his eyes, looking around and seeing Roland’s asleep, he gets up off the floor grunting softly, both leaving the room. Robin closes the door quietly behind them.

“What happened?” 

“I don’t know. He woke up and when he couldn’t find you, he got a bit nervous is all. Not to worry though. Uncle Killian and Uncle John got him settled. How was your evening? I told John not to call you, but he said you’d want to know.”

Robin smirks at his friend. “It’s no trouble, I always want to know when my son needs me. And my evening was, most unfortunately for me, cut short by it but it’s alright. This is where I need to be.” 

Killian nods, claps Robin on the shoulder and heads down the hallway to his bedroom, shutting the door once inside. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Twenty minutes later, Robin’s finally in bed, his mind back on Regina. Or more specifically the feeling of her lips on his, the way she was smiling and laughing tonight, with him, _because_ _of him_. He felt a sense of satisfaction that he was responsible for her good mood and happiness this evening. His phone vibrates on the night stand beside the bed and he reaches over, swiping the screen to read the incoming text:

 

_RMB: I had a really nice time tonight. But I think we probably shouldn’t spend any more time alone._

_RL: Really? And why is that?_

_RMB: Because I don’t trust myself with you._

_RL: I don’t follow…_

_RMB: Robin, stop acting like you don’t understand._

_RL: In all seriousness Regina, I_ don’t _understand._ _You’ve bewitched me somehow because I can’t stop thinking about you. And though you keep insisting that we can’t become involved with one another, I don’t see you leaving me alone. Admit it, you like me. I intrigue you. This is not an act._

 

He waits for her reply. He wants to keep typing, keep talking to her, keep her talking to him. Minutes tick by torturously, making him a bit anxious. He’s thinking of her body against his, and he’s half hard. 

 

_RL: Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me? I can’t stop thinking about you. After we kissed the other night, I wanted nothing more than to do it again, but I would have liked—still would like actually—to ask you out, properly, on a date. I want to know you better. More than just what we shared tonight, although that was nice as well._

 

Robin continues to wait patiently and is just about to give up when his phone buzzes again. 

 

_RMB: Sorry to leave you hanging. I had to feed Lola._

_RL: Ah yes, your dog. Are you sure she’s real and not just an excuse not to talk to me?_

 

The next message is a photo of Regina with a reddish-brown, long haired dog with gentle eyes and a happy expression.

 

_RMB: Meet Lola._

_RL: She’s a beauty. Roland would love to meet her, I’d wager._

_RMB: Well maybe we can set up a playdate._

_RL: That sounds a little odd. Don’t playdates usually happen between the same species? Child with another child? Dog with another dog?_

_RMB: Are you giving me a hard time on purpose?_

_RL: Am I that obvious?_

_RMB: Are you always going to answer my question with another question?_

_RL: No. ;)_

 

He’s having such a good time, but it’s almost midnight. He really should go to sleep. And so should she. 

 

_RL: Regina?_

_RMB: Yes Robin?_

_RL: Good night._

_RMB: That’s it? You don’t want to know what I’m wearing to bed?_

 

She includes the little purple devil smirking emoji after that last text. _Damn woman is a bloody minx._

 

_RL: Pajamas?_

_RMB: Try a silky, super short negligee._

_RL: Text me your address, I’m coming over._

_RMB: Nice try. Good night!_

_RL: You’re killing me, FRIEND._  

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

The next couple of days are filled with a lot of activity at Blanchard Snow. Everyone’s trying to get as much work done as possible before the four-day break. 

Trina has offered to help Emma cook Thanksgiving dinner at Robin’s house, and Robin’s at Trina’s desk late Wednesday afternoon talking to them both with Emma on speaker. 

“So let me get this straight, you’re both going to come over and you’re going to cook the meal, the _whole_ meal, in my kitchen, correct? And when it’s over, what—everyone goes home and I get to clean up after a mess I didn’t make, only because I was gracious enough to host this dinner in my home? I’m not sure I see the point. Besides, I’m British, we don’t celebrate Thanksgiving,” he smiles rolling his eyes in jest. Of course it’s no bother for him. He’s always enjoyed the merriment that ensues when he has guests. 

The three are laughing, making plans about who would eat what side dish and who would refuse it, when Regina comes out of her office, purse slung over her shoulder and car keys in hand. 

“It’s nice to see you both hard at work,” she jokes, and Trina hurriedly tells Emma that she’ll call her later. 

Robin walks up to her and asks, “May I walk you to your car?”

Her eyebrow quirks up. “You’re going to walk me fifty feet just outside the door?” 

“Well, one can never be too careful around this city, and there is safety in numbers,” he quips, looking expectantly. 

“Fine. We can talk about next week’s interview schedule. Which reminds me, did you email that girl back? What was her name again…?”

“The engineer?”

Regina nods. 

“Mulan.” 

“Right.”

“Have a nice holiday Ms. Mills-Blanchard,” Trina chirps. 

“You do the same Trina,” she smiles and starts walking toward the exit, calling to Robin over her shoulder as she dons her sunglasses. “Are you coming?”

He rushes over, stepping around her quickly before she reaches the door, opening it gallantly for her. “After you, ma’am.” He winks and she’s all smiles. 

Trina looks at them in amusement, a knowing smirk on her face.

It’s so bloody hot out, it’s almost a crime it’s this hot and it’ll be December next week. As if reading his mind, Regina pulls her blazer off, switching her purse from hand to hand as she tugs at the sleeves. 

“So. You and Trina are making plans with friends for Thanksgiving dinner I see.”

“Emma is Killian’s girlfriend, Regina. My date, I’m afraid, is Roland once again.” 

“You think I’m asking because I’m jealous?”

“Not at all, milady. But I am hoping you might be, possibly? Maybe one day, perhaps?”

 “Sorry to disappoint you.” 

“That hurts,” he feigns offense, and she smiles. “You never could, you know. Disappoint me.” 

“There you go again, Locksley, trying to charm your way into my life.”

“And is it working?”

“I’m not sure.” 

“I can try harder.” 

“Robin,” she says firmly, stopping next to her SUV. “I’ve already told you; I don’t need another complication. What I need is a _friend_.”

“Yes, we’ve established that already, and as your _friend_ , I’d like to extend a formal invitation: come to my home for dinner tomorrow night. I promise it won’t be weird, and my other friends and I will be on our best behavior,” he leans over, conspiratorially whispering by her ear, “I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” making an X over his heart.  

She chuckles. “And what if I don’t want you to be?”

Robin feigns horror, looking aghast. “If you don’t want me to be a perfect gentleman, then what would you like?”

Regina pushes her sunglasses up onto her head. “Now you’re just teasing me.”

“I was under the impression we were teasing each other.”

“If I agree to come to your house for Thanksgiving dinner, does this mean I get to bring a date?”

“Why would you—you’d have two: Roland and me.” 

Her smile could light a dark room right at that moment. 

“I’ll think about it. In case I decide to go, what should I bring?” 

“Just yourself. Dinner’s at six, but you can always head over earlier if you’d like,” he gives her one more smile before turning to walk back to the office before he melts in this heat.

Regina climbs into her car and drives home in nightmare traffic. She’s still smiling an hour later when she arrives. 

 


	9. Chapter 9

Thanksgiving morning Regina wakes with a monster headache, her right temple pounding, creating an acute ache that reaches her eye socket. The last thing she wants to do is go to her lunch meeting this afternoon with Tremaine. She wonders if she might be able to postpone it, push it off another week, then remembers Robin telling her that Ashley said it was the only available date and time on the woman’s calendar; she was going to be out of town for some architects convention and then would be going on vacation to Utah for the holidays with her family. Her calendar wouldn’t be free until the second week of January and Regina couldn’t wait that long. 

She walks to her bathroom, grabbing the bottle of Tylenol out of the medicine cabinet and then makes her way back to her bed, two pills in the palm of her hand. She pops them into her mouth, then opens the bottle of water she’d left on her night table, one of the ones she and Robin had bought Monday night. She lies back in bed, cell phone in one hand and she reads over their playful text messages, then she closes her eyes thinking of his invitation. 

She can’t go, she knows this. Not only is it not appropriate because they aren’t dating, they’re _not_ , but she knows Trina will be there also and she's a little uncomfortable with the fact that her receptionist would be present for what would likely become flirty banter between her and Robin. Either way, and despite the recent make-out sessions, they’re friends and nothing more, and she doesn't need anyone from work getting ideas about the two of them. And now that she's on that train of thought, she really, _really_ has to nip the kissing in the bud before it evolves into something she’s not ready for, doesn’t know if she’ll ever be ready for again. She loved Leo and he ruined her life. She’d loved her father too, and he’d also caused her a great deal of pain and disappointment. 

Regina found it was easier to keep herself distanced from men because two of her greatest loves had broken her heart, fractured it into such tiny pieces she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to fall in love again. 

This is why she kept Andy around. Andy wasn’t demanding and he usually showed up whenever she needed him to. He clearly wasn’t looking for a relationship either, and though it wasn’t how she’d imagined her life would be at her age: widowed, running her dead husband’s engineering and design firm instead of practicing law, and trying to find a way to keep what was rightfully hers. Realizing that the toxicity she’d had to deal with left her with hefty dose of anger at her own naïveté—how could she not have seen that her husband had so cleverly spun a web of deception and lies? 

Though Regina had been hurt deeply by the two men whom she’d loved most in her life up until that point, she felt in her gut that Robin wasn’t anything like that. The problem was that she no longer trusted herself when it came to her emotions. That’s why sleeping with Andy was so easy; it was just sex with no strings. Whenever the loneliness would creep up, she’d find other ways to occupy her mind and her time. Mal had emailed her about some pro bono paralegal work she could do and Regina was seriously considering it, knowing if she accepted to do the work, she’d have to make sure it didn’t get back to Spencer Gold, even though technically she would be working in a much lower capacity assisting Mal with the workload. 

The sound of soft footsteps padding on the floor got a bit louder and Regina shifted in bed, looking over to her bedroom door to see Lola had come in. “Hi baby,” she cooed at the dog, patting the bed so Lola would jump up and settle herself against Regina’s hip, her head coming to rest on her abdomen, staring up with her sweet brown eyes. “Wanna take a nap?” she asks the dog aloud, knowing she won’t get an answer, but she sets the alarm on her phone for one hour. She’ll get up in a bit, shower, and go put on a happy face for Tremaine. For right now, she's going to enjoy the soft touch of Lola’s fur against her hands, and the dogs rhythmic deep breathing which helps lull Regina to sleep. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

There’s a flurry of activity at Robin’s house. Emma and Trina are in the kitchen talking and laughing as they go about the business of preparing the turkey, a bowl of homemade stuffing next to the bird. Robin and Killian have wandered in often, asking if they need any help, Trina playfully shooing them back out saying, “No men!” 

Roland is next door at Mrs. Lucas’ house playing with her great-grandson, Danny. Ruby, Danny’s mother, had divorced his father Victor a few years ago after she’d caught him sleeping with his nurse. Since then, her grandmother had lent her the capital to open up her own bar on South River Drive between Little Havana and Downtown Miami, and the young woman had been doing wonderful for herself and her son. 

Mrs. Lucas had set Robin up on a date with Ruby once, and they’d had a nice time but he hadn’t asked her out again since. He hadn’t felt a connection. Ruby was always friendly, making sure to stop by and say hello whenever she was visiting her grandmother, and on a couple of occasions had dropped the hint that she’d love to go out with him again whenever he was free. Robin would always smile and say he’d like that, but wouldn’t make any plans. 

He knew which woman he’d love to take out on a date, but that woman was behaving like she wanted him one minute and then pushing him away the next, which ironically only drew him in further. _And speaking of the devil_ , he thinks to himself pulling out his cell phone and bringing up the text message screen. It’s after 2:00 p.m., surely she must be done with her lunch meeting by now. 

 

_RL: I’ve been repeatedly kicked out of my own kitchen today._

_RMB: Hi Robin._

_RL: Are you alright? How was your lunch?_

_RMB: Don’t ask. Not only did Tremaine refuse to get on board with us, I ordered the poached salmon and I think it was bad._

_RL: You’re ill?_

_RMB: I was half an hour ago. I think I’ve successfully purged the evil remains of lunch from my stomach._

_RL: Let me come over. I can bring you some soup._

_RMB: No, I don’t think so. The last thing I want is for you to see me like this._

_RL: You can’t just not eat anything. Let me bring you some broth. It would make me feel better._

_RMB: So this isn’t really about making_ me _feel better at all, is it?_

_RL: Regina, we’re friends. Can’t a friend bring some food over to another friend who’s ill?_

 

***

She’s so damned stubborn. Robin knows there’s no one else. He’s been able to extract some information regarding Regina’s schedule out of Trina, the blonde sharing tidbits of her boss’ calendar, noting whom she meets with regularly. Robin was equal parts dejected and happy that his boss didn’t seem to have much of a social life other than meeting a friend named Mal at The Bar at Level 25 every other week. Robin had even asked Trina about Daniel, just to be sure. That had gone over swimmingly. 

_“Why do you want to know?” Trina asked._

_“I met him and I got a weird vibe from him,” Robin said._

_Trina laughed outright. “From where I’m standing it sounds like you might be a little bit jealous. Do you like Regina?”_

_“Don’t be ridiculous, she’s our boss.”_

_“You didn’t answer my question,” she smirked._

_Robin rolled his eyes. “You know, you and Killian would have made a better match than you and John,” he huffs, walking away from her._

***

He’s trying not to get his hopes up. Regina has always been adamant that she’s not looking for a relationship, that she wants them to be friends. But sometimes, and Robin tries not to let it consume him, it feels like torture. Seeing someone every day, getting to know them better, and still being kept at a distance when he knew that if it were any other person they might actually be getting closer, especially after having already shared a few more intimate moments people who are strictly friends don’t normally share.

He looks back down at his phone in his hands when it buzzes with another text from her. It’s her address and a final message:

 

_RMB: I look and feel like shit, don’t say I didn’t warn you. I prefer beef broth. See you soon. And thanks._

Robin stops in at Whole Foods, buys a quart of broth, a few bottles of Gatorade and some crusty rolls. On the way to the register, there’s a bucket on the ground with bunches of colorful flowers and he grabs one without another thought. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

When he gets to Regina’s, Robin’s first thought is _wow_. He’s already been in her penthouse, and now as he maneuvers his car down the long, slightly winding driveway, he wonders why would one person need this much space? He gets out of his Accord, grabbing the bag of food and the flowers from the back seat, walking around the car to climb up the steps to her front door. He rings the bell, and hears barking coming from  the inside. Regina’s opens it a minute later. Her face is bare and a little pale without any makeup, and she’s wearing yoga pants and a hoodie. And the bloody black glasses, but Robin quickly reigns his hormones back in; she’s obviously unwell. 

“Hi,” she offers, stepping back to let him in and gesturing to Lola to wait. The dog is whining a few feet away, eager to come and greet this stranger who brings food. Robin hands Regina the bouquet. 

“I thought these might brighten your day,” he tells her. 

When she closes the door, Lola scampers up to Robin, sniffing his shoes and pants legs as he bends down to stroke the dog’s head. “Hi girl! Aren’t you a beauty?” he says softly to Lola, the dog quickly licks one of his fingers and he laughs. 

“Come on in, the kitchen’s this way,” she says leading him back through the living room, a large dining area and into a kitchen that’s three times the size of his own. He puts the bag down on the marble counter of the very large island that sits in the center of the kitchen, a set of copper pots and a few cast iron skillets hanging directly above it. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“I’ve had better days. I woke up with a massive headache and considered canceling but there was no one else that could have gone for me. And honestly? After spending an hour trying to convince that old hag to join our team on the project, she flat out refused, said they were already loaded with projects and that she might consider it if we paid them a retainer fee of $250,000,” she scoffs. “I had to bite my tongue to keep from telling her she was fucking crazy. What about you? Where’d you leave Roland?”

“Roland is at my neighbor’s house,” he explains. “Ms. Lucas’ grandson, Danny, is there with his mother. They visit often and today they’re having Thanksgiving dinner there.” 

“Oh my God, I almost forgot, what about your plans?” She wonders, her hand coming up to her forehead. “I’m so sorry Robin, I should have told you I was fine.” 

“It’s no trouble at all. Trina and Emma are there now, turkey should be in the oven by now, and the guys are watching the game.” 

Regina purses her lips at him, her expression softens. “You left your friends to bring me soup?”

“Yes. You’re my friend too. Why wouldn’t I?” 

She sighs audibly. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

Robin smiles at her, puts his hand on her shoulder and tells her to sit down while he busies himself unpacking the container of broth, moving over to her fridge to put the Gatorade inside. “Lucky for you you didn’t fire me,” he quips with his back turned to her. He doesn’t see Regina smile. 

“Lucky for you I have a soft spot for dimples,” she laughs. Robin turns around, a goofy expression on his face. “Between you and Roland, a girl doesn’t stand much of a chance.” 

“It’s all part of the plan: first, we conquer your heart, milady, then it’s world domination.” 

They’re both laughing again, but Regina sways a little to the side, still feeling somewhat nauseous. Robin’s at her side a moment later, putting his arm around her waist to steady her. “Where would you like to sit down?”

“Dining table’s fine, but Robin, you don’t need to stay. You’ve got your own plans. I’ll be fine here. Thank you for bringing me sustenance. And for the flowers, it was very thoughtful.” 

“Nonsense, I wouldn’t dream of leaving you on your own right now. Dinner’s still going to be awhile and if I get Roland back from Mrs. Lucas’ before the turkey’s on the table he’s going to pitch a fit. Now, tell me where your cups and bowls are and I’ll be right back with some Gatorade, yeah?” She smiles at him, lets him know where everything is.  

When he returns to the dining room carrying her tray of food, he’s visibly upset. He sets the tray in front of her, but she’s more concerned with him, reaching out for his arm. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve got a text,” he signals to her cell, which he’d brought in on the try, pointedly avoiding her eyes. She looks confused for a second, then touches the screen to view the message. 

 

_Andy: Hey gorgeous, you up for a wild fuck later tonight?_

 

Regina closes her eyes and Robin says quietly, “Right then. I’ll see you at work Ms. Mills-Blanchard.” 

“That’s not fair,” she calls out to him, he’s already made it to her living room, but he comes back, storming into the room, bending to get close to her. 

Looking her in the face, he snarls, “Do you know what isn’t fair? Insisting we be _just friends_ because you ‘don’t do’ relationships, then kissing me as if our lives depended on it. I can see now the real reason as to why you don’t do relationships, Regina—you’re too busy doing another man!” 

The slap echoes through the room. Robin’s cheek instantly turns red. “Happy Thanksgiving,” he mutters, then turns and walks out of her house. 

Regina stands up, breathing hard, trying her best to calm down. “Fuck,” she whispers to herself, her eyes well with tears. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Robin doesn’t go straight home, he needs some time alone to think. And the more he thinks, the worse he feels. He should have listened to her. She had been honest with him from the start about not wanting to get involved with him, when clearly, _clearly_ she was already involved with someone else. He hadn’t meant to invade her privacy; her phone was on the kitchen island while he was pouring her broth into a bowl and it buzzed. Naturally his eyes glanced down and now he wishes he’d never texted her today, never knew that she’d felt ill, and most of all he wishes he’d never met her. For the first time since Leopold Blanchard died, Robin wishes the man were still alive and well. Regina would still be a practicing attorney and he’d never have met her. He won’t cry, not over this because you can’t cry over something that’s never happened, but there’s a definite ache in his chest and he’s wondering who in the fuck is this Andy person and why does he get to be with her instead of him? 

He cannot talk to his friends about this because they will all say she’s a whore and he deserves better. He runs a hand through his hair and punches his steering wheel. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Regina is back in her bathroom, standing in front of the mirror above her sink. She’s a mess; her eyes and nose are red and puffy from crying. She hadn’t planned to talk to Robin about her arrangement with Andy ever, she’d even begun to imagine that maybe, _maybe_ she could learn to open herself up to loving someone else again. She cared for Robin, she wasn’t ready to admit she might love him yet though now in her solitude she readily admitted to herself that she cares about him. And it hurts her so much, knowing how deeply she’s hurt him in a way that she isn’t so sure can be fixed. She walks back into her bedroom, Lola looking up from her bed as if summoning her. “Hey girl,” she rasps, throwing her arms gently around the dog and sobbing quietly into her coat.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Robin finally makes it back home around 5:30, but instead of going inside, he walks over to Mrs. Lucas’ and rings her doorbell. Ruby answers it. “Robin, it’s so great to see you! Happy Thanksgiving! Are you here for Roland?” she smiles brightly, tilting her body slightly to call out to the boys. 

“Wait. I was actually hoping I’d see you here,” he answers. “I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me Saturday night?” 

Ruby’s smile gets a little wider and she nods her head, “I’d love to.”

“Great, I’ll pick you up around 7:00.” 

“Sounds perfect. Um, would you like to come in? Granny’s in the kitchen. I was just helping her finish preparing the side dishes.” 

“Er no, I’m afraid I’ve got a house full of guests next door, so I’ve got to get Roland then be on my way.” 

“Sure, let me just get him for you,” she turns and walks into a hallway, disappearing from his view for a few seconds before Roland comes running out of the same hallway, Ruby and Danny following behind him.

“Aw Dad, can’t I stay and play a little longer?”

“I’m afraid not, my boy. Say goodbye to Danny, you’ll see him again soon, right?” 

He smiles at Ruby who nods in agreement, giggling, “Yes, of course!” 

Danny and Roland engage in an odd sort of handshake, high-five fist bump ritual they usually do when they’re together, then Robin tells them both goodbye, with Roland  waving at his friend, “Bye Danny!”  

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

No one says anything when they see Robin come in with Roland. The look on Robin’s face is clear: he’s not in the mood to discuss anything right now. Emma pipes up first and says, “We’ve already set the table you two. Why don’t you go wash up?” 

Roland lets out a squeal, saying he can’t wait to try the mashed potatoes because he’s _so hungry_ , and Robin looks over at her and says, “I’ll be a few minutes, but please start without me.” She nods once, frowning. 

Robin walks into his room, shutting the door behind him, then sighs heavily. _You bloody, sodding fool._ He pulls out a long box underneath his bed, full of notebooks of  his sketches, starts looking through them for one in particular that he’d just finished a few days ago and hid in between the others. This one was a little different than the rest because it had a scripted _R_ that he’d drawn inside of an elaborate box, almost resembling a capital _‘O’_ often used in children’s storybooks that begin with _‘Once upon a time…’_ Robin begins thumbing through the pages. Sketch after sketch is of Regina, all in different places, in different poses and outfits, some with her glasses on, some without. The ones toward the end of the book are larger and more detailed noting different expressions of her eyes, one is her profile with a lock of hair tucked behind one ear, and several more are sketches of her lips and nothing else ranging from her smiling or laughing. The last one is a full body sketch. In it she’s only wearing a sheet around her body, hair tousled, glasses on, and she’s biting her lip. That one he’d plucked out of one of his fantasies. 

He can hear his friends talking outside, doesn’t want to keep them waiting. He packs the notebook back in the box, hiding it among the others, closing the box and sliding it back underneath his bed. 

He doesn’t know how he’s going to get Regina out of his head, _out of his heart_ , but luckily he doesn’t have to figure that out tonight. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Lola’s bark and growl wake Regina up. “What is it girl?” Lola barks again, stretching out on the bed before she jumps off. Regina had fallen asleep awhile after Robin left, she had lost her appetite and put the broth into the fridge, but left everything else out. She pulls her robe on and looks at the time. It’s just after nine. She hears some firecrackers in the distance; that must’ve been what made the dog bark. This is the only city Regina knows off that will shoot fireworks on just about any holiday, not just New Years or the Fourth of July. 

She walks to her bathroom, brushing her teeth and turning the shower on. Her head and body ache but neither of these compares to how she’s feeling about Robin. She has to talk to him, needs to explain this. She undresses and steps into the welcoming warmth of the water, craving nothing more than one of Robin’s hugs. _You fucked up. Fix it._

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Robin is outside on the porch again, with a tumbler half full of whiskey, neat. Everyone went home shortly after dinner. Trina and Emma packed everything up in labeled containers, and took some home with them too since there was plenty of food. He and Roland won’t have to cook anything the rest of the weekend, though knowing his boy and his pickiness about eating leftovers repeatedly, he’s probably going to be buying another _‘Big Man’s Special’_ at some point in the next few days. 

It’s almost eleven and he considers dumping out the rest of his drink but chooses to take his time enjoying it. One thing is for certain in Robin’s mind: this is the last Thanksgiving he wants to celebrate. 

Thoughts of having to look for another job cross his mind when a black Mercedes SUV pulls into his driveway and Regina gets out walking toward him. She climbs the steps to his porch, pulls up a chair and sits in front of him. “Please, hear me out,” she whispers. 

Robin’s eyes bore into hers, his jaw clenches. But he remains silent, waiting for her.

She takes several deep breaths, and leans forward so she’s a little closer to him. “I care about you, a great deal. I don’t want to lose what we have, what we were starting to build. He’s not my boyfriend, he’s just…” She looks away, a swift breeze blows a lock of her hair and Robin inhales the scent of her perfume mixed with her shampoo. He wants to wrap her up in his arms, hold her, tell her… In that moment, he doesn’t know what to tell her. So he continues to stay quiet. 

“Leo and I had been having trouble for years. We got married two years after I’d finished law school. I went to work at the public defender’s office when I graduated and when we met, that’s where I was working. It was never a problem because I kept  pretty regular hours, got weekends and holidays off, though I generally liked reviewing my cases during my downtime. But it never bothered him so much back then. 

“It ultimately wasn’t where I wanted to be so I reached out to law firms across the city to ask if they’d heard of anyone looking to hire an attorney who didn’t have much experience yet and that’s how I found Michael Midas, Esquire. I was thrilled to be there, doing what I loved, and happy to put in the long hours, rarely getting any free time. It’s always like that especially in the beginning when you’re working so hard just to prove your worth.” Taking Robin’s tumbler out of his hand, she helps herself to a couple of sips, feeling the liquid burn her throat as it makes it’s hot way down into her belly then hands it back to him. 

“Leo and I began fighting a lot. He never hit me, but he did raise his voice often. He once even took my birth control pills and threw them out, hoping I’d get pregnant and want to stop practicing law.” 

At this revelation a flash of anger passes across Robin’s face. In all the years he knew Leo Blanchard, he never would have imagined him as someone who’d yell at his wife, much less try to sabotage her career. He continues to remain silent, to let her feel like she can talk to him. After all, that’s what she came here for and he’s going to let her.

“It continued to get worse from there, but I refused to give up my career. We had signed a premarital agreement and in it was a clause that said that if anyone related to me either by blood or marriage…” she tells him the whole story. How Leo lent her father $500,000, effectively enacting that asinine clause, how her father had gambled away all of his wealth. When she gets to the part about how she spoke to her father that last day, she cannot control the tears any longer and they slip down her cheek, thick and fast. 

“I told him he disgusted me, and he tried,” she gasps audibly, trying to draw breaths into her shaking lungs, “He tried to talk to me but I walked out so he…he shot himself, Robin. My father died because of me.”

Robin quickly puts the tumbler on the table and wraps her up in his embrace. “Shh, it’s alright, shhh,” he soothes, smoothing her hair, kissing her forehead. 

Regina steadies her breathing before she continues. “We found out about Leo’s cancer just a few weeks later,” she says looking at his chest, her arms hugging his waist. 

Instinct has him holding her tighter, pressing her even closer than before, continuing to caress the back of her head softly. 

“Andy was just a distraction for me. That’s all he is, all he’s been,” she looks up into Robin’s eyes, licking her lips. “I’m not in love with him.” 

He nods in understanding, hands coming up to cradle her face, thumbs skimming her cheeks. 

“Thank you for telling me all this. It all makes sense now. You don’t trust easily, and I understand why with all you’ve been through. I know that nothing I say will make you feel better, but—what do you need from me? I want to help.” 

“This hug is pretty great,” she laughs softly.   

“I would hug you until the end of time, just say the word,” he vows. 

She looks up at him, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. “Tonight, if you asked me to go further with you, I don’t think I could say no.” 

Robin kisses her cheeks, then her eyes, tasting the salt of her tears. “Darling, tonight I don’t think I could ask.” 

 


	10. Chapter 10

They stand on his porch, arms wrapped around each another, neither one wanting to break contact. Robin can feel her breaths calming and steadying, her previous sobbing has subsided into soft, breathy sighs and exhales. “Would you like to come inside?” he asks her quietly, no pressure, although he keeps his arms around her for comfort, for  reassurance that he doesn’t want to break contact, isn't ready to let her go yet. 

She looks up into his eyes losing herself in those blue pools, trying hard to find a way to be strong, put some distance between them, get herself together. Regina has had to rely on tenacity most of her life, so she’s not entirely sure how to behave in those rare moments when she has every right to be vulnerable. 

Bringing her hands up over her face, she gently rubs her eyes, and Robin feels like the moment is about to come to an abrupt end but she surprises him when she nods a whispered, “Okay.”

He dumps out the whiskey that’s left in the tumbler, takes her hand and leads her into his home, shutting the door quietly behind them, leading Regina to his couch. “Can I get you anything?” 

She shakes her head, says she’s fine, but he excuses himself anyway, says he’ll be right back and walks into his kitchen, returning a minute later with two glasses full of water, setting them before them on the coffee table before he sits down next to her. 

“Just in case you change your mind,” he offers, shrugging. She smiles at him, then tucks herself into his side, his right arm coming up around her shoulder and wrapping her in an embrace. Robin reaches to his left for the remote sitting on the arm of the couch and turns the TV on, flipping channels until he lands on Turner Classic Movies. One of his favorites, _To Catch A Thief_ , is on, and dropping the remote, he brings his left arm back toward her, fully wrapping her in both arms as she settles her head against his chest.

Regina falls asleep first, lulled by a combination of the rhythmic beating of his heart beneath her ear, and his fingers lightly tracing hypnotic patterns on her shoulder and arms, until they finally cease in their movement, his head coming to rest against hers. They never let go of one another. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Her left arm feels like it’s on pins and needles when she wakes several hours later, feeling like she’s being watched. She opens her eyes blearily, blinking a few times to chase the sleep away when she remembers there’s someone next to her, _Robin_ , and _someone else_ who is standing in front of her in silent, curious observation. Her hand reaches down, feeling for her glasses, which she finds next to her right thigh and puts them on, as Roland’s fuzzy outline comes into sharp focus. 

“Hi Regina,” Roland whispers. His head is a mess of curls and he’s holding a pillow shaped like _Cars_ ’ Lightning McQueen. 

“Good morning Roland, did you sleep well?” She’s a little disoriented, wishing she had a toothbrush and a strong cup of coffee right now, the order unimportant. Her back and neck are a bit stiff after having spent the night curled up in the same position, then looks over at Robin, who’s stirring as well. He stretches and groans, opening one eye at a time, looking at both of them, then back at her. 

“Good morning,” he rasps, stretching his arms above his head. “Roland, how long have you been up?” 

“Not long Dad. I went to your room but you weren’t there so I came out here and saw you guys asleep.” 

Regina stands, announcing, “I should go.” 

“No Regina, why don’t you stay for breakfast? You can sit next to me!” Roland says, smiling brightly at her, his sweet dimples on display. 

Robin follows suit, standing beside her, bringing his hand to the small of her back, and he offers, “I can make us some coffee, and I have spare toothbrushes in the hall closet, if you’d like to freshen up. It would be our pleasure to have you join us for breakfast, wouldn’t it son?” 

Roland nods excitedly, until Robin tells him to go brush his teeth and get dressed. The boy grumbles a little but does as he’s told and returns to his room. 

Regina looks at Robin shyly and says, “Hi.” 

“Hi. Are you feeling better?” he asks, his arms come up to squeeze her bicep, caress her shoulders, one finger reaches to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. The moment is so tender; it feels familiar. Comfortable. And the unexpected, but nevertheless welcome, contact makes her breath hitch a little. 

“I _do_ feel better, although I am a little stiff,” she tells him, stretching her neck to one side until it pops. 

“Let me get you set up in the bathroom first, then I’ll start the coffee,” he says while he walks down the hall. She hears him open a door, followed by the sound of things being shifted around, and then the unmistakable click of the door closing again, as he returns to her, an unopened toothbrush in hand. 

“Thank you,” she smiles, turning toward the powder room. Robin walks to his kitchen and gets a pot of coffee brewing. The clock on the stove lets him know it’s just after 7:00 in the morning. While the coffee drips, he heads to the bathroom to freshen up as well, splashing cold water on his face then brushing his teeth. Robin looks at himself in the mirror, noting he needs to trim down his beard again today. He last trimmed it Wednesday, but it grows so quickly, so he plugs the trimmer into the outlet. He’ll take care of that later; right now he’s got two very special people to feed. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

They eat together, falling into an easy conversation as Roland talks about camping (he wants to do that for his birthday next August) and Robin teases him that they’ll definitely not be going camping until the weather cools because last time they went, they both got eaten alive by mosquitoes, or has Roland forgotten. Regina laughs at them both, the sexy dimpled father and his sweet dimpled son, feeling blessed to be with them in that moment. 

No one voices it out loud, but Robin and Regina both feel it: it’s almost as if they were truly a family.

When the thought enters Robin’s mind, he pushes it back. He cannot permit himself to get caught up in that fantasy. While Regina opened herself up to him in a very big way last night, the last thing he wants is to damage her level of trust in any way. He believes he understands her better now, and he won’t misuse that knowledge to serve his own desires. She is a strong woman with a resilient heart, one that’s been put through emotional hell. Knowing what he knows about her now, he makes the firm decision that he will be exactly what she’s asked him to be: her friend. 

This might present a challenge considering his feelings, but Regina is more important. He won’t press the matter with her again, he silently vows, resolute in his decision. 

When Regina announces she’s leaving shortly after they’ve eaten breakfast and she’s helped him clear the table, Robin smiles and offers to walk her out, while Roland sulks an _awww man, can’t she stay a little longer?_ , making her chuckle, then bend down to look directly in the young boy’s eyes. 

She whispers conspiratorially, “I promise I’ll come and visit again real soon, okay? And maybe I’ll even bring my dog, Lola.” 

Roland’s eyes go wide. “You have a dog??” 

Regina smiles, nodding. “I do. And if you’re really, really good, you listen to your father and your uncles, and _all_ the adults, I might bring her over so you two can play together. Would you like that?” 

“Yes!” The boy squeals, promising her that he’ll be on his best behavior, then crosses an _X_ over his heart, much the same way his father had earlier in the week. 

“Why don’t you go make your bed, Roland, straighten out your room and open the blinds, yeah?” 

Roland, having just promised Regina that he’d be on his best behavior, doesn’t make a peep in protest. He says okay, gives her a hug goodbye, then runs to his room. 

“I’ll walk you out,” Robin says, motioning for her to go before him. 

Regina opens the door of her SUV, but before she sits inside, she turns to Robin, opening her arms for a hug. He willingly embraces her one final time, his nose against her hair breathing her in deeply while she brings her arms up over his shoulders and kisses his cheek. “You know, a girl could get used to this,” she teases. 

Robin can’t think of what to say, doesn’t want to mess the moment up, so he pushes down any feelings that are screaming _Kiss her—_ silencing any emotion telling him to do the exact opposite of what he actually does: his hands cover hers and he brings them both up to his lips. Kissing her knuckles, he simply says, “Drive safe.” 

They stare at one another like a couple of fools for a little longer, not wanting to let go, and neither one willing to admit this connection between them is much more than the label they’ve insisted placing on it.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Regina walks into her home to a very excited, whining Lola. It’s apparent the dog has been anxiously awaiting her mistress. “Hey girl, hey, hey,” she coos, rubbing the dog’s coat and petting her face lovingly, dropping a few kisses on her head. “I missed you too sweetheart. Come on, let’s get you some food and fresh water.” Lola trudges happily behind her, knowing exactly what’s coming. 

Regina never worries about letting her out since Lola has a doggie door that allows her to come and go out in the fenced yard when she needs to eliminate. 

Since she began practicing law, she asked around at her vet’s office to see if anyone might be interested in walking Lola twice a day while she’s working and once on weekends. That’s how she met her dog walker, Lily. The young girl comes and goes, and always leaves Regina a note stating the time they went on their walk and how Lola did. She feels relieved when she sees Lily’s note, letting her know she took Lola out at nine that morning. 

After she refreshes her dog’s food and water bowls, Regina changes out of last night’s clothes and into a pair of shorts, a tank top, and her Chucks. She pulls her hair up into a messy bun and dabs on a little tinted lip balm. “Lola!” She calls out. “Want to go for a walk?” The dog comes running quickly. Regina clips her leash as they head out into the cloudy windy day.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

“Dad?,” Roland says, making Robin look up from the puzzle they’re working on at the kitchen table. 

“Mmm?” 

“Is Regina your girlfriend?” 

Robin chuckles at his son, returning his gaze to the puzzle. “No Roland. We’re just friends.” 

The boy stays quiet for a couple of minutes, then asks, “But you two were sleeping together?” 

Robin frowns, groaning inwardly. _If only we_ were _sleeping together,_ but he quickly schools his features into something more pleasant and less conflicted, choosing to ignore wandering thoughts.   

“We _fell asleep_ together son, but we weren’t _sleeping together_ ,” he explains.

Robin knows it’s not a great answer because naturally Roland’s next question is, “What’s the difference, Dad?” 

“That, my boy, is something I will explain to you when you’re older.” 

Roland scoffs out loud, “You always say that! And you never tell me! Dad, tomorrow I’ll be older, so can you tell me then?”

Robin smiles at his son and says, “Yes, that’s true you _will_ _be_ older tomorrow, but no,” he laughs, “tomorrow won’t be when I tell you.”   

Roland scrunches up his nose, muttering how unfair it is that Dad won’t tell him about _stuff_ , that he is too old enough and Robin almost caves, _almost_ but not quite—remembering that their arrangement is platonic friendship even though Robin himself often wonders just how platonic it really is. He would love nothing more than to tell his son that yes, Regina _is_ his girlfriend ( _or more_ , his mind insists), and that couples sometimes sleep together, or they might fall asleep cuddling on the couch while watching movies. But how do you explain the phrase “platonic friendship” to a young six-year-old no matter how bright, how precocious he is?

Robin wistfully wishes again he had a partner to share these awkward parenting moments with so they wouldn’t always solely rely on him.  

A collective rumble of thunder cracks in the sky, bringing him out of his thoughts. Robin pulls up the weather app on his phone, reading that there’ll be scattered thunderstorms the rest of the day. 

“Roland, grab any toys you’ve left outside. Quickly. The rain’ll be starting soon.” 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Regina and Lola get caught in the downpour and arrive home drenched. Regina leads them toward the side of the house, entering what was once a garage that Leo had converted into a proper mudroom a few years back, complete with a high efficiency washer and dryer set, and racks for storing clean towels, dry clothing and shoes to change into whenever anyone gets caught in bad weather and happens to forget an umbrella. The weather is so unpredictable in Miami, you can never count on it not to rain, even when the forecast says there’s only a ten percent chance. It’s a small price to pay for coastal living. 

She takes one towel and begins to rub Lola down briskly, the dog huffs and snorts playfully. She’s almost completely dry when Regina lets her go to toe off her sopping wet Chucks, her fingers on the hem of her tank top, getting ready to peel off the wet top, but the ring of her doorbell interrupts her and she grabs two towels instead, wrapping one around her hair in a turban while using the other to rub her arms and legs vigorously. 

She walks to the front door and opens it, surprise to see it’s Andy on the other side. “You never answered my text, gorgeous. I need you so bad. Please tell me you’re free, and I’ll…” he rushes, stepping over the threshold into her home and pulling her wet body into his arms, kissing her deeply, “…help get you out of these wet clothes,” he chuckles darkly, nuzzling her neck.

Regina puts her hands on his chest, pushing him back. “I don’t think so.” 

He stops kissing her and looks at her quizzically. “What’s going on? This a bad time?” 

She pulls away from him completely, creating distance between them. “Nothing. I’m just…not in the mood, Andy.” 

The man chuckles, and smirking says, “Let me get you in the mood then, warm you up.”

“I’m afraid not,” Regina says slow but firm. 

Andy looks at her askance, shaking his head. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m saying,” she answers resolutely, “I don’t want to do this, Andy. Not anymore. In fact, I don’t want to keep doing this. It’s over.” 

She waits for him to say something, or better yet, go. But Andy just stands there in disbelief, looking at her as if she’s lost her mind. 

“You want to end this,” he says, matter-of-factly, and Regina nods.

“I do. It’s for the best.” 

“Okay,” he responds still dumbstruck. Andy looks back at her once more before turning to go and nods. “Goodbye Regina.” 

“Goodbye Andy.” 

He lets himself out and she locks the door behind him, shutting her eyes and breathing deeply. Not a lick of remorse courses through her veins. Her thoughts wander to Robin, how it felt spending the night in his arms, his early morning caresses followed by the gentle ones standing next to her car, how he never pushes her and she lets herself believe for just a moment _what if_. 

Regina physically shakes herself to stop those thoughts, remembering she’s got work to do. _Now isn’t the time_.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

After several hours in front of her computer searching legal databases, Regina walks to her kitchen to fix herself something to eat. She’s not in the mood to prepare a big meal, then remembers the broth Robin had brought her yesterday, still in its container, so she brings that out and heats it up along with one of the rolls. 

Her eyes glance at the vase Robin had put her flowers in, on the corner of her kitchen island, and a small smile lights up her face. 

Regina can’t believe so much has happened in less than a day. If Mal were here she’d be rolling her eyes, warning her about going soft again. But she shuts her eyes, ignoring any thoughts of her overly rational, overly cautious friend, who means well but who doesn’t know Robin the way she does, the way she’s gotten to know him. She’s definitely missing him, wanting very much to talk to him right now, so she sends him a text.

 

_RMB: Lola and I got caught in the rain on our walk._

 

She starts to type that she’s glad to have the broth he brought her to warm her up, but ends up deleting the words, thinking better of it. That isn’t the memory she wants to relive, recalling Robin’s hurt look when he’d accidentally seen Andy’s text. 

 

_RL: I’m sorry to hear it._

_RMB: We’ll survive._

_RL: Of that I have no doubt._

_RMB: Everything alright? You seem off._

_RL: No, just trying to keep Roland busy is all._

_RMB: Where are the guys?_

_RL: You mean my roommates? Spending the weekend at their girlfriends’ as usual._

_RMB: Oh. Well, I won’t keep you._

_RL: I’ll text you tonight, after he’s sleep. xx_

 

Suddenly Regina feels as though she wants to crawl out of her skin. Something about knowing Robin being alone with Roland, knowing he’s got no one there to talk to besides his six-year-old son, leaves her feeling both a bit melancholic and anxious. She wants to drive back over to their house, maybe watch a movie with them, images of her curling up next to Robin, a bowl of popcorn on her lap flood her mind. 

_This is crazy._

She forces a few spoonfuls of the broth down and eats half the roll. Twenty minutes later she’s still staring off into space, her thoughts on the two Locksleys, until finally she gives up, the broth having gone cold a while ago. She dumps what’s left in her bowl and puts it into the dishwasher, heading to the gym room instead. Perhaps a good sweat will help her from fantasizing about what a future with them would look like. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

It’s been a long day for Robin, keeping Roland entertained without being able to go outside to play and burn off his energy. Once his son is finally in bed, he walks into his bedroom intending to text Regina. Instead he sees he’s got a message from Ruby. He’d forgotten he’d made plans to go out with her. _Shit._

 

_RW: Robin, I wanted to ask what I should wear to dinner tomorrow night? Really looking forward to it! ;) xx_

 

He has no clue where to take her, and he curses himself for having invited her out in the first place. He never should have made a date with another woman while coming out of an angered jealous rage. But, he supposes, there’s probably no harm in going out with her one final time, so he types his response.

 

_RL: Hello Ruby, how do you feel about LoKal?_

_RW: Great choice, I love their burgers—can’t wait! xx, R_

 

He closes the text message window and pulls up his contacts, pressing on Regina’s name. Suddenly texting her won’t do; he wants to hear her voice.

“Hi,” she answers, her voice is low, honey-like. It makes him smile. “How was the rest of your day?”

“Exhausting. I love my son, but I wish sometimes that his mother gave enough of a damn to take him out some weekends. I suppose that makes me sound like a bad father, doesn’t it?,” he wonders aloud.

“No, not at all,” she says. “It makes you human.” 

“What about you? Still wet from the rain?” 

“Robin, that was hours ago,” she chuckles. 

“Not in my mind,” he says, then abruptly smacks his forehead. “Apologies. That was forward.” 

“You’re apologizing for being forward with me after we slept in each other’s arms last night?,” she quips.

He sighs, “I am.”

“Robin, you don’t have to—”

But he interrupts her, insistent. “Yes, I do. Please, let me speak. You’ve been honest with me from the very beginning, Regina. My only regret was looking down at your cell phone when it rang, leading to our terrible misunderstanding yesterday. But thankfully we cleared the air, yeah? So we can move forward, in the direction _you_ want,” he says cautiously. 

She wants to reassure him she’s not mad anymore about him having seen that message. She wants to say that maybe it was a good thing, that maybe she’s willing to take a chance with him. Robin is a good man. But she says nothing, waits for him to finish. After all, he’s always let her say her peace when she’s needed to, and done so without interruption.

“I want to be your friend, you deserve that,” he’s saying. “And going forward, I _will be_ a better friend to you, I promise you that. You never lied about what you wanted and, on my honor, I’m prepared to give you what you desire.”

Regina suddenly feels she’s been sucker-punched. She closes her eyes, exhaling audibly and says, “I see.” 

There’s a tense silence on the line, neither one finding words easy at the moment. 

Robin believes he’s given her what she wants, what she’s never had before from the men in her life: the chance to have her wishes respected, to be given what _she_ wants. So it catches him off guard when she rushes him off the phone, telling him she’s got to take Lola out for a walk. 

“Alone, at this hour?” 

“Yes, Robin. I do it every day. I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

“I’ve no doubt, Regina, I just…I just don’t like it is all.” 

“It’s fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” Then realizing she’s probably coming off a little rude and aloof, she adds, “Do you and Roland have any plans? Maybe I can meet you both at Alice Wainwright, and this time I’ll bring Lola,” she offers tentatively. 

“Yeah, that sounds like fun, but I get the sense something’s troubling you. Are you sure you’re alright?” 

“Never better,” she says without missing a beat. “I’ll meet you both tomorrow around two. I have to go,” she says before pressing the end button on her cell.

_What the hell is she doing?_

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Her body is on fire, and she’s incredibly wet when she awakens at midnight, thoughts of a very erotic dream still fuzzy in her mind and it is taking every ounce of will not to cave and call Andy to have him come by and take the edge off. Not that it would make a difference because he’s _definitely_ _not_ the man she wants right now. She wants _Robin_. She needs _him_ , not someone else. And every rational thought about where they stand and how inappropriate even thinking this has now been overridden by a libido that seems to be stuck on overdrive with a mind of it’s own.

 _This is crazy_ , she tells herself. _What the hell would I say?_ But still, she fumbles in the dark for her cell phone, skims through the contacts until she gets to his name, and without any thought (other than how much she needs him right now), Regina presses _Robin Locksley_ on the screen and waits patiently for him to pick up.

He answers on the third ring, his voice muffled and sleep-addled. “Hullo?” 

She almost hangs up, but then he speaks again, apparently having glanced at his screen and says, “Regina? Is everything alright?”  

She speaks softly. “No, it isn’t. I realize this is going to sound insane, but—is there any chance at all you might be able to come over?” 

“What, now?” he wonders, growing more concerned. “Roland’s sleeping. No one else is here but me.” 

She takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself, and nods even though he can’t see her. “Right,” she tells him, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have called.” 

“Wait. I’m up now. Talk to me. What’s on your mind?” 

“I think I’m _losing_ my mind, Robin.” 

“Love, what’s happening? I’m worried. Have you been drinking? Are you hurt?”  

“No, no. Nothing like that. I just… I just need you right now.”

He’s silent for several seconds before offering, “Do you want to come over?” 

“Let me throw some clothes on and I’ll be on my way.” 

She hangs up quickly, throwing on a pair of shorts and a thin cardigan over her sleep camisole, driving to Robin’s house before she loses her nerve.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Regina texts him when she arrives, and he answers the door barefoot, wearing nothing but pajama bottoms. His hair is disheveled but his beard looks as if it had been trimmed, and he looks so unbelievably _good_ , so delectable, she can’t help reaching for him, touching him, her arms wrap themselves around his waist and she steps up to press closely against his bare chest. 

His strong arms come up around her back, and she’s breathing deeply, her mouth suddenly dry. “What’s the matter, love?”

When she looks up at him, she notes his concerned expression. “I ended things,” she whispers, the clarifies, “with Andy.” 

“Oh. Do you want to talk?” 

She shakes her head, keeping her eyes on his, and rakes her fingernails gently on the back of his neck and up into his scalp. Before either of them says another word to try to rationalize what they really are to one another, Regina closes the short distance between them, fusing their mouths together in a heated kiss. 

He moans when her tongue touches the seam of his lips. They open up willingly, eager, tasting and teasing her. 

She stops, pulls back a little and says, “I realized something Robin: I _want_ to be with you. I can’t stop thinking about you, about us. I don’t want to waste another minute.” Her voice is soft but confident. He looks into her beautiful brown eyes, searching for any inkling of doubt, and finding they only darken with desire. 

Her arms move upward to wrap around his shoulders again, bring him even closer, her fingernails soft and unmoving now against her elbows, which rest on his shoulders. 

Robin lowers his head to look at her. “Babe, I don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth but shouldn’t we talk about— _mmmh_!” He never finishes the sentence, Regina’s lips press back against his own, opening once again, immediately deepening their kiss. She brings her hands down his torso, to explore his chest, caress his ribs, dipping lower until she boldly places one palm against his erection making Robin exhale audibly, throwing his head backward. 

“Regina,” he gasps, “I thought we agreed—”

“Fuck what we agreed,” she whispers, running her tongue along the outer shell of his ear. “And please, Robin, _please_ fuck _me_. I was wrong.” 

“Christ,” he mutters, one hand is still firmly on the small of her back while the other one reaches for her breast, cupping and kneading, his thumb finding her nipple, tugging through the fabric. 

Her moans is low and steady, and she dropS open mouthed kisses slowly along the stubble of his jaw, nipping his skin lightly then running her tongue soothingly along where she’d bitten.

“We have to be quiet,” he says hoarsely and she nods in understanding. 

“Bedroom. Now,” she says.

Regina lets Robin lead her to his room. She whimpers softly when one of his hands slips down to cup her ass, pulling her against his hardened cock, as he locks the door behind them with his other hand. There’s a small dark green lamp on top of an unfinished armoire made of natural pine, casting a soft glow in his bedroom. She notices his sheets are rumpled from having been slept on not long ago.

She’s about to ask him if he would rather she go, they can discuss this another time because there’s a lot they have to talk about, but it all goes out the window when Robin starts to move, walking backwards toward his bed and bringing Regina forward with him. His hands never stop caressing her, fingers tugging deliciously at her nipples, and his lips never break their kiss. 

He sits down on the mattress’ edge, pulling her forward again but this time his message is clear. She acquiesces, bringing her knees up onto the mattress, and straddles his hips, her legs going around him as she settles down on his lap, pressing herself as close as she can to where she needs him, seeking friction against his hardness. His hands move to her back, pressing her into him, seeking to be as close to her as she wants to be to him.

Robin moans into her mouth, one hand skims up her spine underneath her camisole. The contact makes her shiver, and his other hand returns to her front to continue his attention on her breast and nipple. “Harder,” she whispers, grinding herself down as hard as she can, her wetness making it easy for her shorts to slip and slide sideways against his erection. 

He takes the command well, firmly tugging and pulling her hardened nipple, and when she throws her head back holding onto his shoulders for purchase, Robin removes the cardigan off her shoulders, and in one swift move, pulls her camisole up and off, his head descending to her chest, taking a pebbled nipple, closing his mouth around the stiff peak. His tongue licks, while his teeth graze it softly at first then a little harder, alternating between licks and soft tantalizing bites. His fingers wander down to her shorts, sliding the material of them and her panties to the side, groaning when he feels her wet heat.  

“Fuck, that feels amazing,” she breathes. 

“ _You_ feel amazing,” he tells her, letting go of her breast with a small pop. “I’ve thought about you like this for so long, since the moment we met,” he confesses, his tongue traveling up the creamy swell of her breast, stopping at her neck to nip lightly and taste, losing himself in the feeling of her. “I want to taste every bit of you,” he rasps near her ear, his lips and tongue finding a spot just behind it, which he immediately discovers in a sensitive one for her, eliciting goosebumps on her skin as she shivers. “Lie down with me.”

Robin shifts sideways, removing his glistening fingers from her heat, sucking them clean of her before he moves them both down on the bed still facing each other, Regina’s legs untangling from behind his torso. He skims his knuckles over her breasts, caressing her waist, fingers tug gently at her shorts. “I’d like to take these off,” he says in a low voice before he leans forward to steal another kiss, his tongue dipping slowly into her mouth. 

Regina moves his hands down, and hooking his fingers into the waistband of her shorts, she half-whispers, “I’m not stopping you,” her lips returning to capture his in another soul kiss. 

Robin wastes no time pulling the shorts down, breaking away to look down at her and he groans in appreciation at the black lace panties she’s wearing. His fingers skim over the top of her lingerie, his head dipping down just below her navel, dropping soft pecks along her pelvis, his stubble making her squirm. 

“I’m going to make you come so hard tonight, love. Would you like that? Would you like me to make you come?” 

“Yesss,” she hisses. 

“Say it for me, love. Tell me you want me to make you come.” 

“I want you to make me come Robin, and,” she starts to add, shyly lowering her voice to a whisper, “I want to make you come too.” 

It’s all the encouragement Robin needs. He groans after a deep exhale, pulling the panty all the way down, and when it slides off her toes, he tosses it across the room, where it lands atop his dresser. 

He looks down at Regina, now fully naked, for the first time. He doesn’t stop to ask, to wonder, to question _anything_. To do so would put an end to this moment, and there is no way, _no way in hell_ Robin will allow this to end tonight without the promised orgasms. Instead he sighs, “You’re so beautiful.” 

“Touch me,” she says, her voice sounding hypnotic like a siren’s call. He reaches one hand between her legs, feeling her wetness again with his fingers. They slip into her easily and Regina cries out softly. 

“Christ love, you’re soaked,” he tells her, pumping one finger in and almost out several times before adding a second one, making her moan a little louder. “Shhh…,” he quiets her, devouring her moans with his mouth.  

Robin’s fingers continue exploring her, his fingers curling up toward her abdomen in search of her G-spot, finding it a moment later. “There you are,” he rasps, kissing her cheek tenderly as she sighs a pleasurable exhale.

When Regina can’t control her voice anymore, she grabs one of the pillows under her head, using it to muffle the erotic sounds coming from her lips. Robin removes his fingers suddenly without warning and she tosses the pillow over his side, frowning, then props herself on her elbows in frustration. “What are you doing?” 

Robin looks up at her. “I need to taste you,” he answers, and before he bends his head back down between her thighs, he takes the fingers that were just inside her and brings them to his mouth to suck them clean of her juices again, uttering, “Love the way you taste babe. I can’t get enough of you. Lie back down, please. I don’t want to wait any longer.”

He pulls her knees apart gently, planting open-mouthed kisses along her inner thighs until he’s close to her center. Just as she thinks he’s finally, _finally_ going to put his mouth on her, right where she’s throbbing, aching with need, he changes course, repeating the same movement on her other thigh, drawing out her anticipation. 

“Robin, don’t…” 

“What, love? What do you want? Tell me.” 

“I want your tongue on my clit,” and no sooner have the words left her mouth that she feels his fingers spreading her lips apart, the tip of his tongue flicking her clit to and fro. “Ahhhh,” she gasps in ecstasy. 

“Like this?” 

“Yes! Please, don’t stop.” 

“Babe, tell me what you want, what you enjoy,” he says quietly, “let me know, yeah?” 

Regina nods swiftly, can’t think of words right now as he resumes sucking her clit firmly between his lips, then releases it, bringing his mouth back down to her lips where he thrusts his tongue in and out of her, lapping greedily at her wetness. 

Regina has never been very vocal in the bedroom. No other man she had slept with had ever encouraged her to share her likes and dislikes. It feels a little weird at first, but she’s quickly letting go of those inhibitions, especially when Robin is bringing his fingers back and gliding into her wetness, entering her easily, the pads of his fingers pressing lightly on her G-spot, building the pressure slightly when she bucks against him.  

“You feel so good, love, and you taste delicious. I could spend hours feasting on you,” he says between licking and sucking her clit, his fingers never stopping. “Do you like when I do this?”

“I—aahhh, ahhh! I do,” she pants, “Though it— _mmmm!_ —it hardly seems fair.” 

“You want to taste me as well?,” he says, wrapping his lips around her clit, sucking firmly. 

“God yes!” 

Robin shifts on the bed to lay opposite her, bringing his legs up toward her head slowly, before lowering himself on his side. He moves her thighs apart gently once more before dipping his head back into her wetness. 

He knows to expect it, but it’s still incredible when she parts _his_ thighs, her breath warm against his length. She takes his cock into her hot mouth, enveloping the velvety smooth skin, teasing his head with swirls of her tongue and he lets out a deep moan. 

She releases his cock, shushing him—a reminder that his son is sleeping a couple rooms away.

Robin tries to focus his attention on being more quiet, but she isn’t making it easy for him. 

Regina pulls him even closer, this time _her_ hands are on his ass, pushing him deeper into her mouth, and he offers up a quick prayer of gratitude for whatever blessed angel woke this beautiful, incredible woman up in the middle of the night to seek him out for this pleasure. 

At this his conscience begins to protest, warning him this is probably not a good idea, that she might regret it come morning—if she’ll even _be_ here in the morning. It’s enough to make him start slowing down his tantalizing licks. 

Just when his damned honor is about to cause him to open his mouth to stop this from going any further, she pulls him in so deep his cock hits the back of her throat and he’s lost all manner of rational thought. 

“ _Aaaaaahhhh!_ Love, you’ve no idea how wonderful that feels, but I won’t last long if you keep doing it,” he gasps on a heavy exhale.

All he hears is her _Mmmm_ in agreement, but she continues her assault on his cock, sucking, swirling her tongue around his shaft, bringing her lips back up to kiss and tease his tip, then repeating the motions again and again, as she presses him deliciously deeper into her mouth. 

Robin feels his balls begin to tighten, and he’s got to stop her or he’s going to come right down her throat and he doesn’t want that, not for their first time together.

“Stop darling, stop. I don’t want this to be over so quickly,” he pants and she mercifully releases him, allowing him to switch positions once more so now he’s facing her, kissing her deeply so she can taste herself on his tongue. 

Robin boldly brings the fingers that had been deep inside her a moment ago, and holds them up to her lips. “Suck,” he instructs, and she does, never once breaking eye contact with him. “Do you like how you taste, love?,” he rasps.

“Mmhmm,” she hums softly. 

“Did you enjoy tasting me?”

“I didn’t really get to Robin, you wouldn’t let me,” she says, as he cradles her face in his hands, his lips nipping her jaw before he lowers his head toward her breasts, latching onto a nipple again. “ _Ohhhh_ ,” she lets out on a breathy exhale. 

His cock is so hard, he needs to be inside her. After a few alternating sucks to each nipple, he leans over to his nightstand, and opening the drawer, he pulls out a condom. 

Regina opens her mouth, about to tell him he needn’t worry. She’s still wearing her IUD, but she also doesn’t want anything killing this moment, or to say anything that would inadvertently bring them back down to earth where those damned pesky rascals, logic and reason, exist. Those two are _not_ her friends right now, not when she’s finally going to fuck this man, who she’s been dreaming about a lot longer than she’ll ever admit to anyone, even her best friend. She’s as eager for him as he is for her, and she’s wondering what the hell she was thinking when she insisted they be just friends.  

Robin finishes rolling the condom down, pressing the tip to release a tiny air bubble. He starts to move over her but she shakes her head, smiling. “Uh-uh. I want to be on top,” she says and he whispers _thank God_ as she straddles him, sinking down slowly, his cock slipping easily into her waiting heat. 

Robin’s mind drifts back momentarily to that fantasy he’d had of her a few weeks ago, and silently thanks the universe one more time for his luck.

She takes a moment to adjust to the feel of him. He’s thicker than Andy, but (and she’s pleasantly surprised by this revelation) not as long, making her feel deliciously full. A few moments later, she begins to move above him while he holds on to her hips. 

Regina grinds herself down on his cock, rotating her hips slightly making Robin press his head back into his pillow. She continues moving torturously slow, alternating between rotating her hips, coming up, then sliding back down his length. 

“What do you need babe?,” Robin asks, his hands cup her ass firmly, urging her up, down and around him. She doesn’t answer; instead, she brings her fingers down to her clit and starts moving them in tight firm circles. “Yeah, that’s it, touch yourself,” he breathes. “I love watching you. Make yourself come, babe. I want to feel you clamp down on my cock,” he grunts. 

It’s all the encouragement she needs, her fingers are so slippery on her clit. She speeds up the pace, focusing more on herself and less on Robin, closing her eyes and enjoying all the dirty talk he’s been giving her. She’d always wished for a lover that didn’t hold back in the bedroom, and in that regard, Robin is exact what she’d always wanted, and (wonderfully) the polar opposite of both Leo and Andy who were quiet lovers, grunting softly only at the moment of orgasm. 

Robin’s watching her, he knows she’s close; he can feel her walls tightening around him, so he continues moving her ass in the same grinding motion she had going before, stilling her every now and then so he can push up deeper into her, making her gasp. 

“That’s it, love, come for me. I want to feel you,” he encourages. 

“Robin,” she exhales his name on a loud moan when her orgasm finally takes her, making her body convulse hard as she topples over him. 

“I love feeling you come all over my cock, babe,” he rasps, bringing her torso close to his chest so that he can start pumping up into her quickly. She’s so tight, it only takes him a few more thrusts before he’s also coming with her name on his lips, his breath rough against her ear as he whispers her how amazing she is, how incredible she feels while he slows down their movement.

She slides off him, their bodies covered in a sheen of sweat, and lies on her side next to him, watching as he grabs the used condom and pulls it off himself carefully, tying the top into a knot before tossing it into a nearby small trash can in the corner.  

Robin turns back to Regina, bringing his hand up to caress her face, thumb skimming her jaw when he sees her eyes are glassy. “What is it?,” he asks, worried she might be regretting what just happened. 

She licks her lips, blinking back the tears that threaten to fall, before answering. “Just that I don’t always realize what I have right in front of me,” she remarks, her nose bumping into his. “I almost talked myself out of this.”

“And now?,” he asks curiously. 

She gives him a wide, genuine smile. “I’m kicking myself for insisting we be friends—knowing we could have been doing _that_ all along.”

Robin laughs, bringing her face closer, kissing her slowly, tenderly. “Sleep love, you must be exhausted. I’ll wake you in a few hours.” 

She nods, cuddling closer to his side, as her eyes close and she falls into a deep sleep. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Regina opens her eyes just as the sun is rising, the sky still a dusty pinkish lavender, the moon slightly visible through the crack in his blinds. She turns in Robin’s arms, snuggling against his chest and buries her face in the crook of his neck. His fingers coast up and down her arm gently and he rasps, “Good morning,” turning his face sideways to kiss her forehead.  

“Good morning.” 

“Did you sleep well?”

“I did.” 

His arms wrap around her, moving his head down to her neck and taking a deep breath there, inhaling her scent, planting soft kisses against the column of her throat.

“Robin,” her voice breaks his thoughts, and she sounds serious. “I…” 

He pushes himself up on his elbow to look down at her. He can’t read her expression, but the first thing that comes to mind is that she’s regretting this after having slept on it, and he’s suddenly not sure what he can do or say to make her feel better. Instead he falls back to his side of the bed, bringing his arm up to rest on his forehead. “I think I understand,” he says quietly. 

Regina shifts in bed, props her elbow up to face him. “What? No, Robin. I was going to say, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for coming over here, for throwing myself at you after I’ve insisted, relentlessly, we just be friends.” 

“Do you regret it?”

“That’s the thing: I don’t,” she admits, holding his gaze. “Do you?”

“God no,” he answers quickly, sitting up reaching for her. “I meant it when I said I’d wanted to do this for a long time.” 

“I remember,” she smiles fondly recalling last night’s words. “Since the day we met apparently.” 

“Look,” he smiles at her, “we don’t have to talk about it right now, yeah? Just let me hold you awhile, then let me make you breakfast.” 

“That sounds lovely, but, I have to get back. If Roland wakes up and finds me here again, what do you think he’ll say?” 

“I don’t bloody care, Regina. He’s six. His opinion doesn’t matter to me.”

She shakes her head softly. He’s obviously not thinking clearly, either because he’s still in a post-coital haze or because he needs coffee. Either way, she finds herself talking some sense into him. “Listen to yourself Robin. You _really_ want to explain all _this_ to your son?”

“No, that’s not what I mean. I just… I want you to stay,” he whispers, putting his arms around her. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to go right away. Like if last night didn’t mean anything.”

She brings her hand up to cup his cheek. “We both know that’s not true. It did mean something—to both of us. But I need some time alone, and I think you do too.” 

“I don’t… What is there to think about?,” he asks in confusion, shaking his head as he searches her eyes, unable to read her expression. 

“I need to get home, take care of Lola. I’m still meeting you guys later at the park, remember?,” she smiles.  

A look of doubt clouds his face, so she coasts a finger under his chin and says, “Hey. This isn’t me running.”

“Isn’t it?,” he answers. He can’t help it and what’s worse is he knows he must sound terribly pathetic so he shakes his head, trying to regain a semblance of composure, and mutters an apology.  

“I’m not running, I promise. It’s just me asking for a little space,” she assures him. “Robin, last night was incredible and I…I’d like us to explore this more. I’d like to give us a chance.” 

His heart hammers in his chest and his face erupts into a grin, before asking a little skeptically, “You would?” 

“Yes,” she says biting her lip. “I’m very,” she plants a soft kiss on his lips, “very,” another kiss, “ _very,_ ” and that kiss lasts several seconds longer than the ones before it, “ _certain_ I’d like to see more of you,” she finishes, her lips moving softly against his. She pulls her face back to look in his eyes. “I’m not pulling away. I promise,” she repeats seriously. And then she remembers one of his and Roland’s endearing qualities, and she crosses an _X_ over her heart.

Robin nods. “Alright,” he smiles. “We’ll see you later then.” 

“Yes, you will,” she assures, kissing him a few more times before slipping from his bed, reaching for her clothes and pulling them on quickly. 

“I’ll walk you out,” he says, putting on his pajama bottoms and unlocking his bedroom door quietly, walking as softly as he can down the hall. Regina’s fingers are warm, tangled with his as she follows behind him to his front door. 

“I’ll text when I get home,” she whispers, kissing him once more, her hands on his waist. He cups her jaw, whispers back _alright_ , and watches her leave. 

It’s only when he goes into his kitchen to start the coffee that he remembers he has a date with Ruby tonight. 

Robin looks up at the ceiling, closing his eyes in momentary exasperation. He’ll need to cancel. 

The good news is he’d already arranged for Emma and Killian to stay with Roland tonight, so instead of Ruby, he’ll be going out with Regina instead. With that thought, he’s back to feeling like he’s on top of the world. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Roland yawns when he comes into the kitchen almost an hour later. “Morning Dad,” he says sleepily. 

“Good morning my boy, did you sleep well?” 

“Yep. What're we having for breakfast?” 

“I thought I’d make us some pancakes and bacon.” 

“Yum!,” Roland exclaims. 

“But,” Robin starts, “you need to…”

“I know Dad. Brush my teeth, get dressed, straighten out my bed.” 

He smiles at his son lovingly, tousling his hair. “That’s right. When you come back, I’ll have some breakfast ready for you. And I have a surprise,” he tells his son.

“A surprise?!,” Roland’s voice squeals. 

“Mmhmm. I’m taking you to the park this afternoon. Regina’s meeting us there,” he says, then adds, “With Lola.” 

Roland shouts, “YAY!,” making Robin laugh before he reminds his son, “Yes my boy, but first…”

“I know Dad, I’m going,” the boy nods and walks back to his room to dress for the day and freshen up. 

Robin’s unable to contain his smile, knowing that after spending time with his son and Regina _(and Lola)_ that afternoon, he’ll be able to take her out properly like he’d wanted to all along, and spend more time alone getting to know everything he can about the woman of his dreams. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Half an hour later, Robin’s cell phone buzzes with a text from Regina letting him know she made it home fine after stopping at a Starbucks for a latte and a croissant. She tells him she’s a little tired (this makes him break out into another goofy smile), and that she’s going to shower and take a short nap before lunch so she’s refreshed when it’s time to meet them at the park later. 

He waits until after nine to text Ruby his regrets at having to cancel dinner plans on such short notice, vaguely saying that something’s come up. She texts back right away saying it’s no problem. 

When Roland makes a mess of his toys in the living room, bringing a few games out of his closet and dumping an entire tub of Legos all over the living room floor right before lunch, Robin doesn’t seem to mind at all. 

 


	11. Chapter 11

Robin and Roland arrive at Blanche Park at 2:25 in the afternoon. Regina had texted him that Alice Wainwright Park was fine if they wanted to keep Lola on leash, but at Blanche Park, Lola could be let off her leash so she and Roland could run and play together. 

It takes Robin a bit longer to arrive because of traffic, and when he does, he finds Regina’s already there, kneeling before Lola, saying something lovingly because the dog brings her paw up toward Regina’s chest and the woman holds it, kissing the top of her beloved girl’s head. 

Roland excitedly yelps, “Dad! I see them!,” making Robin chuckle in agreement with a _yes, Roland I see them too_. Robin parks his car next to her SUV, and they walk over to Regina and her dog, Roland frantically running the last twenty feet. 

“Hi Regina!,” Roland’s all smiles when he reaches them, and Regina kneels down to wrap him in a hug. 

“Hello Roland, it’s so nice to see you,” she smiles warmly at his son, kissing his head as her eyes travel to his father. Robin looks handsome in khaki cargo shorts and a navy t-shirt. Before she gets up, she introduces Roland to Lola, giving him one of her favorite toys to play fetch with, and watches as they run about fifty feet away. 

“Not too far, Roland,” Robin calls out, then holds his hand down toward Regina to help her up. 

“I want to kiss you but I’m not sure it would be appropriate just yet,” she says tentatively, as she stands, tilting her head in Roland’s direction. 

Robin pulls her into his arms, whispers, “Hi,” and she echoes the greeting close to his ear, causing goosebumps along his arms. Roland’s back is facing them so Robin takes a chance and gives Regina a quick peck on the lips, taking her by surprise. 

“Hi,” she returns brightly. 

They walk over to sit on a nearby bench, their fingers lightly entwined, holding onto each other. 

“How has the rest of your day been so far?,” she asks him. 

“It just got better,” he smirks. “You look beautiful, by the way.”  

“Charmer.” 

“Likewise.” 

They sit down, fingers now begin to slide and play. To the casual observer, they might resemble a couple of fools, with their goofy grins and somewhat shy demeanor, but they’re completely unbothered. They finally seem to be on the same page, and Robin takes the opportunity to properly ask her about her plans for the evening. He’ll be sorely disappointed if she says she’s otherwise engaged.

Clearing his throat, he’s suddenly feeling nervous though he has no idea why. Just hours ago, he was balls deep in this woman, thrusting eagerly into her. But it’s _Regina_ , the woman who’s captivated him entirely in a way no other woman ever has. Not even his ex-wife.

“I was wondering,” he starts, “if…you’d like to go out this evening?,” he finishes looking into her eyes. “I’ve got sitters lined up for Roland and I’d very much like to take you out. _Properly_ ,” he adds. 

“Mmm,” she nods, “That sounds nice. What did you have in mind?” 

Robin thinks quiety for a moment. He sure he doesn’t want to take her to LoKal, where he’d originally planned to take Ruby. This is their first official date. _Theirs_. He wants it to be special. But his mind is suddenly blank. When he opens his mouth, then closes it, only to open it a moment later and no words make it past his lips, Regina laughs out loud, coming to his rescue. “How about you come over to my place, let me make you dinner?” 

And even though they’re sitting next to each other, he wants nothing more than to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless. Roland’s shriek breaks him out of his reverie and they both look over to see Lola licking the boy’s cheek, then her snout comes around the other side of his face sniffling playfully before she tickles his ear, making Roland laugh and Robin chuckle before he looks back at Regina.

“Dinner at your place sounds perfect. I can’t wait. Shall I bring anything? Some wine? Dessert perhaps?”

Regina licks her lips and says, “No, I have plenty of wines we can choose from, so just bring yourself.” Then she leans a little closer to him and whispers boldly, “and as for dessert, I _am_ the dessert,” making Robin lean back dramatically, one hand coming up over his heart as a low, soft moan escapes his lips, soft enough only they can hear it and the message is clear. 

“You’re bloody perfect, you realize,” he remarks, his eyes bright. They’re smiling at each other like fools again. 

Before they get carried away, they agree to simmer down on the flirting, save it for later, focusing instead on Roland and Lola playing together.  

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Over an hour goes by before they decide it’s time to go and they start walking to their respective vehicles. 

Regina pulls her hair up into a messy ponytail, and fans her neck. Roland’s cheeks are flushed and he’s sweaty. The heat is relentless, making everyone feel a bit sluggish. The last thing on anyone’s mind is food though, but nonetheless Robin suggests they pick up a pizza on the way home. 

Regina starts to say she’ll meet them there, that she’s going to stop at her place and drop Lola off, but Robin promises it’s perfectly fine, that Lola is welcome in his home, and Roland begs if he can ride with Regina so he can keep playing with and petting the dog.  

Regina smiles down at him and says, “You’ve got to ask your father first, sweetheart, make sure he’s okay with it,” prompting Roland to turn his eyes up to Robin and give him his best puppy-dog stare, begging _Please Dad?_ , his small hands clasped as if in prayer.

Robin pretends to mull it over before he relents. “As long as it’s okay with Regina, I don’t mind.” She shakes her head, and he deftly pulls Roland’s booster seat out of his car and fastens it into the back seat of Regina’s Mercedes, Lola panting softly, her eyes trained on Robin's movement. 

Regina turns the engine on, switching on the air conditioning dial full blast so the cool air starts to circulate making everyone inside comfortable.  

Robin wants to kiss her again before they part. It’s what feels and seems normal, natural to him but he restrains himself in front of Roland, his eyes lingering on Regina’s face and her lips a moment longer than necessary. “You want to follow me back?,” he offers. 

“What about the pizza?” 

“Right, the pizza,” he gets just a little closer to her, half listening to Roland happily telling Lola he’s going to show her all of his toys. “We’ll order in,” then he steps even closer and whispers in her ear, “You can still be the dessert later if you want.” 

Regina smirks but her stomach is suddenly full of flutters. It’s _ridiculous_. She’s never felt this way before, ever. Not with Leo, not with Daniel, and certainly not ever with Andy. Robin is nothing like what she’d imagined and she’s enjoying the jitters and pleasant tingles of new romance—something she’d never thought she’d have again. “I thought we’d agreed you’d come over tonight, let me make you dinner?,” she chuckles. 

“We did agree to that, yes. However, I’m loathe to let you go even for a few hours. I want to spend as much time as I possibly can with you. I’ll order the pizza for Roland, we don’t have to eat it, and then we’ll go back to your place. How’s that?,” he says while his fingers do that that sweet, sexy thing they do, caressing a lock of her hair back, then ghosting over her cheek. It’s so Robin. “I gave us some time like you asked for, but…” he shrugs, pausing to purse his lips then blows out a soft breath, adding, “Is it terribly pathetic of me to admit to wanting to spend extra time with you?” 

Regina’s taken aback, and downright flattered. No one has _ever_ wanted to spend so much time with _her_ , getting to know her. She’d thought that’s what Leo wanted at first, only to realize it Leo’s only intentions were to exert control over her. Hell even Mal often teased that she could only deal with her in limited quantities of time.

However, Robin makes no such pretext. He seemed to honestly care about her, never pressuring, always listening intently. She feels unexpectedly giddy, and tries to maintain a semblance of composure and behave like a grown woman instead of the lovestruck teenager she feels like. In reality, she wants to throw her arms around his shoulders and kiss him until they’re breathless, his son and everyone else watching be damned. 

Instead she smiles, and shaking her head, answers, “No, it’s not pathetic at all. I love that you want to spend extra time with me, but do you think Roland will be okay with that?” She knows Robin hasn’t told Roland about them, that things between them literally _just_ started, and she probably shouldn’t expect anything formal so soon. This thought makes her suddenly anxious, and she wonders if maybe the proverbial other shoe is going to drop and effectively burst this fragile bubble she’s— _they’re_ —in?  

Robin’s voice brings her back to reality and out of her mind, nodding his head in Roland and Lola’s direction as he asks, “What do _you_ think?” 

Regina looks over, shaking her head and laughing. “I can’t believe I’m using my dog to get close to your son.” 

“Babe, that’s not true. Just yesterday morning, he didn’t want you to go home, remember? Now, let’s get going before we bloody melt out here, yeah?” And before he can stop himself, he pecks her on the lips, turns toward his car, and calls over his shoulder, “I’ll see you all at home.”  

Regina sits in her Mercedes letting the cool air hit her. _Yes_ , she thinks happily, _you will_.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Traffic is a little heavy and Roland has settled down, the air conditioning blowing the curls on his forehead back. He’s looking outside at passing cars while swinging his feet gently to and fro. Lola’s curled up next to him in the backseat, her eyes closed. 

“Regina?,” the boy speaks up and she glances at him through the rear-view mirror. 

“Yes Roland?” 

“Are you my Dad’s girlfriend?” 

Regina’s like a fish out of water. Out of all the questions Roland could have asked, out of all the conversations they could have had, _this_ is what he wants to know. 

She inhales a deep breath before she answers, “Uh, why do you ask?” 

Roland shrugs. “I dunno. You and my Dad are always cuddly. My Mom was never like that. I think, if you aren’t my Dad’s girlfriend, then maybe you should be.” 

“And how do you know so much about girlfriends, young man?,” she deflects. 

“My friend Danny has a girlfriend. Her name is Grace.” 

Regina wishes the earth would swallow her whole. Is she supposed to be talking about this? What would Robin think? 

“Your friend Danny has a girlfriend named Grace,” she repeats, trying sound calm while she wraps her head around this. _Didn’t Robin say he was only six?_ _How old is this Danny kid?_

“Yep,” Roland continues, unconcerned. “Danny holds Grace’s hand to cross the street when her mom comes to get her at school. And I’ve seen you and my Dad holding hands, so…”

“So you naturally thought I was his girlfriend?,” she finishes for him, and he nods  smiling happily as if it’s the most normal conversation between them. 

“Well Roland, the truth is, I’m _not_ your father’s girlfriend,” she says. “Becoming someone’s girlfriend takes time. I mean, surely Grace didn’t become Danny’s girlfriend overnight, did she?” 

The boy looks pensive, bringing a finger up to tap against his chin. “I don’t know Regina. He just started holding her hand one day and then called her his girlfriend,” he says shrugging. 

She laughs and says, “Well sweetheart, it’s different when it comes to adults. But that’s not something you need to worry about right now. Anyway, we’re close to your house and your Dad’s going to order your favorite pizza!,” she says cheerfully, her tone going up a bit, becoming more melodic, thus effectively changing the conversation. 

“We’re gonna have the _‘Big Man’s Special’_? Yes! Oh, Regina—now you’ll get to try it!” he whoops from the back seat, waking Lola, who pops her head up to look around and opens her jaw in a dog-yawn, before she settles herself back down, her head resting comfortably on Roland’s lap.  

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Ten minutes later they’re pulling into Robin’s driveway, and Regina parks her SUV next to his sedan. Stepping out of the car, she opens the back door to clip a leash on Lola’s collar and Roland unbuckles himself from his booster seat, while Robin comes around the other side to unfasten the booster and return it to his car. 

Mrs. Lucas is standing outside watering her yard observing them, and when Robin looks up and waves, she calls out his name, one elderly hand raised in a return greeting while the other drops the hose, walking over to the fence.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Lucas,” Robin says as he approaches the fence. “How are you today?”

The woman gives Regina a very obvious once-over, making her a little uncomfortable, but she walks over to stand by Robin, while Roland offers to take Lola inside and get her a bowl of water. 

“My sciatica’s acting up again, the joints are achy, and don’t even get me started on the reflux,” she answers wearily, looking at them both over the top of her glasses. “And who might this young dish be?” 

“Oh, forgive me Mrs. Lucas, this is Regina Mills-Blanchard,” he introduces them, Regina holding her hand out to the woman while Robin’s hand lands on the small of her back.

“Hello Mrs. Lucas, it’s a pleasure,” she nods politely as they shake hands. 

“Mmhmm,” Mrs. Lucas says noncommittally. “So Robin, is this the reason you cancelled on poor Ruby tonight? That girl had been looking forward to going out with you again since last summer. Maybe next time check your schedule before you double book, am I right?!,” she winks and laughs, oblivious to the way the couple’s bodies shift awkwardly, Robin’s back going ramrod straight, his jaw tense. 

“Yes well, we won’t keep you, Mrs. Lucas. I’ve got to get Roland cleaned up and fed. Have a lovely evening,” he smiles as kindly as he can muster, the hand still on Regina’s back guiding her toward the house. 

When they walk in, he shuts the door and Regina spins to face him. “ _You had a date with someone else tonight?_ ,” she hisses, not wanting Roland to hear the conversation.    

“Love, it’s her granddaughter and it’s nothing, I promise you. Ruby and I are just friends. Acquaintances really. In fact, her son Danny and Roland are good friends. They play together often.” 

Regina’s nostrils flare when she asks, “You’re _friends_ with her? Like you’re _friends_ with me?” She takes a deep breath in, closing her eyes momentarily and catching herself. She’s out of line. He’s not going out with this Ruby woman tonight, he’d already made sure he’s going to be with her. “Sorry. I… I have no right to say that to you. We…whatever _we_ are…,” she fumbles for the right words because really: what are they to each other? Now after having been intimate, she’s unclear about where they stand, and really, _do they have to have this conversation now?_ “You know what?,” she shakes her head as her hands go up, her tone completely neutral and her voice back to its normal range. “Forget it. Not my place.” 

She starts to walk toward Roland’s room to check on them, see if Lola’s still wearing her leash or if Roland took it off but Robin’s hand catches hers and he pulls her back to him, holding her close. 

“Talk to me, babe. What’s on your mind? Truly?,” his eyes darting gently, searching hers. 

Regina looks down, shakes her head twice and says, “Roland asked me if I was your girlfriend.” 

“He WHAT? When?” He seems a little upset, definitely mortified. 

“On the drive home. _Here_ ,” she corrects. “He told me you and I have been _cuddly_ and that his friend, _Danny_ —which I’m guessing is the same boy you just mentioned?,” and Robin nods in agreement, “has a girlfriend named Grace, whom he holds hands with. Apparently, Roland believes that if you hold a girl’s hand, that makes her your girlfriend, and since he’s seen us holding hands…” 

Robin’s laugh catches her off guard. “I’d like to know what else my son told you,” he says, biting his lip. 

“He said that you and his mother were never ‘ _cuddly,’_ and that if I wasn’t your girlfriend maybe I should be.” She uses air quotes when she uses the word ‘cuddly.’ He finds it adorable. 

Robin’s arms tighten around her waist. “And what do _you_ want?” 

“What?” 

“Do _you_ want to be my girlfriend Regina? Do you want us to be _cuddly_ all of time?,” he asks, a soft chuckle escaping him. 

“Robin this isn’t funny. Can we not have this conversation now?,” she sounds a little irritated, and he’s immediately worried. He knows he’s upset her, and he’s cursing himself for trying to lighten the mood.

His face grows somber, and he asks, his voice dripping with sincerity, “Regina, you can talk to me. What’s really bothering you?” 

She purses her lips, says she’s going to go check on Roland and Lola, disentangling herself to move toward the boy’s room and leaving Robin standing in the hall looking tense.

He hears her gasp very faintly in front of Roland’s door so he rushes over, peering above her head. 

Roland is passed out on his bed. His shoes lie haphazardly on the floor where he’d toed them off, and Lola is also fast asleep on her side, next to him on the bed. Roland’s hand rests tenderly over the dog’s ribcage. 

Robin’s hands come up, landing on Regina’s shoulders. “Come on babe, let’s let them sleep. Park obviously wore them both out.” 

Regina nods, letting him lead her to the living room where they sit down on the couch. 

“So,” she starts, “you had a date tonight. With another woman.” Direct and straight to the point. 

He takes a deep breath in, lets it out slowly. “Yes. I did.” There’s no point denying it now that the cat’s out of the bag, and since he’s done nothing wrong, he has no problem answering any questions she has about it. Deep down, though, Robin feels smug, because he recognizes what’s really going on: Regina’s jealous.   

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather go out with her instead?” 

Robin reaches for her hand. “I am absolutely certain. Like I mentioned earlier, Ruby and I are mostly acquaintances. You’ve nothing to worry about.” 

She mutters the woman’s name under her breath and scoffs. Robin contains the smile threatening to break free but he knows if he does it while she’s like this, it’ll just upset her more so he pushes it down. 

“Look at me, love,” he says as his hand comes up to cup her chin. “The only woman I have any desire to see is _you_. The only woman I want to spend considerable amounts of time with _is you_.” The next part he half-whispers, ghosting his lips over hers. “And the only woman I find unbelievably sexy, the only one I want so much…is _you_.” His lips capture hers, eliciting a small startled gasp from Regina. When they break apart, he bumps the tip of his nose playfully against hers then looks into her eyes and asks, “Do you doubt me?”

Regina shakes her head, licks her lips as she glances down, before Robin kisses her again. In seconds, it deepens and she moves over him, her knees coming to rest against the back of the couch. She straddles his thighs, pressing herself down on his half hard cock. She starts to hump him when she feels it, never breaking contact with his lips until he parts himself to nip at her jawline, tongue soothing in its wake. 

“Robin,” she gasps when she feels his now fully erect penis slide deliciously against her core. He answers her with an _Mmhmm?_ But she’s having trouble finding words. Everything he’s doing to her right now is distracting, so she cups his jaw instead, and grinds herself harder against him, feeling the first sensations of arousal gathering moisture. 

His hands move to her breasts, sliding underneath her shirt, and his thumbs start to rub across her nipples over the thin material of her bra. He slowly moves his fingers in light circles around the edges of the cup, then pulls them down with some force and bites her jaw lightly, while his thumbs and index fingers pinch her nipples firmly, tweaking the already stiff peaks.  

“Aaaahhh,” she moans when his tongue runs along the edge of her earlobe and he murmurs _shhh_ , reminding her they’re not alone.

He tugs her lobe gently with his lips and murmurs, “God I love playing with your tits.”  Wetness floods her panties. “Are you wet for me love?” 

Regina doesn't answer him, only grinds herself against his cock harder, his hands coming around her waist and sliding down to her ass to move her to and fro against him. 

They’re so enthralled with one another, they don’t hear the door open until it’s too late and Killian’s voice shouts, “ _What the bloody hell is this?_!” 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Regina moves swiftly off Robin’s lap, swiping a finger against the wetness near her top lip, and trying to readjust her bra and disheveled shirt. Her cheeks flush crimson, and Robin grabs a throw pillow to cover his hard-on. 

Killian and Emma are standing there, mouths ungracefully open in shock, stuttering what sounds like an embarrassed apology. 

After a very awkward thirty seconds, Robin stands up, pulling Regina’s hand so she follows suit, and introduces them to her as naturally as possible.

“Regina, I’d like you to meet my roommate Killian, and his girlfriend Emma, This is Regina Mills-Blanchard,” he announces, everyone stiffly murmuring their hellos. 

Emma eyes go momentarily wild in recognition, but she has the sense to school her features back to normal before extending her arm out for a handshake. “Regina, it’s nice to finally meet you. Robin’s told us all about you,” she offers meekly. 

It’s the same woman from the video, Regina realizes, the woman who had been dancing salsa with Robin. It’s _Emma_. 

“It’s nice to meet you both as well,” Regina says shaking Emma’s hand, before letting go to reach over to shake Killian’s. 

The man leers at her, and when he takes her hand, instead of shaking it, he bends gallantly and plants a kiss on it. “The pleasure is all mine, luv,” he stands back up, winking at her. 

Emma rolls her eyes and laughs, slapping his arm playfully. “Would you knock it off? You’re freaking her out. She doesn’t want some stranger kissing her hand.” 

“No harm, eh luv?” Killian nods at her, and Regina laughs dubiously, a little unsure about Robin’s roommate. 

“What are you two doing here?,” Robin asks. 

“You asked us to stay with Roland tonight, remember?” Emma responds, her voice a little tight unsure of whether or not she’s said too much. 

“Ah yes, yes, that’s right. I suppose you two have eaten already?” 

“Not yet mate. We were planning to order in. It’ll likely be pizza, given that’s usually the young man’s preference,” Killian says. 

“So, where’re you guys going tonight?,” Emma asks brightly. 

“Actually, Regina’s making us dinner at her place,” Robin says, his hand coasting up to her shoulder, fingers massaging it gently. 

Emma smiles at them, then asks if Robin wants them to spend the night with Roland. “No funny business,” she promises seriously. 

Robin looks down at Regina who’s blushing again. “That’s really nice of you Emma, but,” he starts then stops abruptly when Regina puts her hand over his arm. 

“We’ll let you know. I’m not sure what I’m going to make us yet, but,” she looks down at her watch, “It’s almost six and…” 

“Say no more,” Emma tells them. “If you decide to stay over, just text.” Smiling, she turns away from them and herds Killian to the kitchen, calling out, “Where’s Roland?” 

Robin chuckles softly, answering, “He fell asleep with Lola—that’s Regina’s dog.” Then whispering to Regina, he asks her if she feels comfortable leaving Lola there with Roland and his friends. She looks unsure, but Robin tells her it should be alright, then excuses himself to go talk to Emma and Killian briefly. 

When he returns to where she’s standing, Robin excuses himself again apologetically, letting her know he’s going to grab some clean clothes he can change into later, and that they can leave right away when he gets back.

“But what about Lola?,” Regina asks concerned. 

“Love, she’s fine here. You’ve no need to worry. Emma’s had dogs all her life. Lola’s in good hands, I promise you,” he reassures, kissing her cheek before he ducks into his room, coming out a few minutes later with a backpack slung over one shoulder. “Shall we?,” he smiles, taking her hand in his, leading her out to her SUV.

“Yes,” she says, handing him her keys. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

They head east toward Regina’s, their fingers now laced together, elbows resting comfortably on the center console. “What are you in the mood for?,” she asks him. 

Robin glances sideways. “You.” 

“I was talking about dinner,” she warns playfully, rolling her eyes. 

“I know, love. And I was not,” he laughs. “Whatever you feel like making is fine. I’m sure it will be delicious,” he says bringing their hands up to plant a kiss on hers. 

She murmurs in agreement, her fingers lightly squeeze his. 

“Honestly what I really want right now is a shower. I’m so sticky from the park.” 

“What a coincidence. I’m in need of a shower myself. Perhaps I should join you when we get to your place?”  

Regina’s smile goes even wider. “Perhaps.” 

She pulls her cell phone out and sends Lily a quick text, letting the girl know she needn’t worry about walking Lola tomorrow morning. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Her front door has barely shut closed, when Robin tosses his backpack on the floor as his fingers quickly lock the deadbolt into place. He turns to her looking almost predatory as his hands tangle in her hair at the same time their mouths meet. 

It’s a wildly passionate kiss, and yet there’s a desperately sweet quality to it. It’s as if they’re on borrowed time. He wants to slow it down but doesn’t want to stop devouring her either, so quickly making up his mind, he starts walking her backwards until it dawns on him: _he doesn’t know where the hell he’s going_ so he stops. Robin’s only been in this house once before, and though it was only a couple days ago, it feels like it’s been much longer. Besides, he’d only brought her some food and the visit hadn’t included a tour. 

Luckily Regina senses where he wanted to go so she breathes, “Last door on the right,” before her mouth reattaches itself to his, her tongue dancing around Robin’s,  and her fingernails scratch the back of his scalp, making him moan. 

They stumble into her bedroom, and in one swift move Robin pulls her shorts down while Regina grabs his shirt by the hem and yanks it up and off his head, bringing her tongue down to circle his nipple, her mouth closing around it. 

He takes advantage of her position, pulling her tee up while his fingers deftly unhook her bra. Regina straightens herself upright slowly, her tongue drawing a wet trail up his chest and neck, then pulls away to fully remove her shirt, letting the unhooked bra fall smoothly down her arms. 

Robin’s eyes go dark when she slides her panties ever so slowly down toned legs. He licks his lips before his mouth is on hers again, wasting no time undoing his own shorts, his erection springing forth while his hands reach behind her, pulling her waist flush against his torso, his hands reaching down around the globes of her ass, cupping her and rubbing her against his hardened length. 

They’re both panting. He can feel her wetness through the thin fabric of his briefs and he wants nothing more than to be inside her. “Love, let me just get a condom out of my pocket,” he rasps, dropping a hot, open mouthed kiss near her ear. 

But Regina isn’t having it. She wants to feel him without a barrier. Shaking her head, she breathes, “I’m wearing an IUD. You don’t need the condom. Unless you want it?” 

And then it’s Robin who’s shaking his head, biting his lip. “Not at all. I want to feel you wrapped around me. Nothing between us.”

She hums, kisses him again then moves her hands to his briefs and lowers them down to his knees as she takes his cock in her hand and begins to pump. 

They fall to the bed, losing their rhythm for a moment to make themselves more comfortable and Robin kicks off his underwear. He brings his right hand up to his lips and licks two fingers, quickly bringing them down to rub firm circles on Regina’s clit. “Guhhhh,” she throws her head back, eyes closed. 

“That’s it babe. It’s just us. I want you to be as loud as you need. Don’t hold back,” he tells her, then dips his two fingers into her wetness, bringing them back out to rub the same tight circles on her clit, adding a little more pressure as her moans continue to rise in volume. 

“I love watching you. You look so beautiful like this, coming undone in my arms,” he keeps up with the same motion, dipping fingers down into her wetness, bringing them back to rub her clit, the intensity building. 

“Robin…” she pleads with him. 

“Tell me what you need gorgeous. I want to give you whatever you want,” he murmurs. 

Regina’s having a tough time with this. Her brain is screaming at her; she can’t _talk this way_ , she never has. But it’s obvious it turns Robin on, and if she’s honest with herself, it turns her on too. A lot. So, she powers through, tells herself to quit pussyfooting. 

“I…” and her mind draws a blank. Whatever she was going to say suddenly seems like it might not sound hot enough, maybe even downright ridiculous. 

Robin whispers encouraging words to her, “You what, babe? Hmm? You like feeling my fingers dip into your pussy, you like how I rub your clit?” 

“Aaaaahhhh! Mmmmmm!,” she nods, still not able to find her voice. 

It’s too much. She wants to say something, but she’s also drowning in sensations. She’s so close to her orgasm and she’s just about to say so when Robin gently applies a pinching motion on her clit using his thumb and index finger, and she topples over that edge, panting loudly, her hips bucking wildly into his hand as he chuckles. 

“There, love, how was that, mmm?,” he asks, his hand coming up and his fingers going directly into his mouth to suck off her wetness, making them both moan—him at her taste and her at the sight of him savoring her. “You taste so good,” he says, eyes hooded. 

“Robin, I need you to fuck me, please. Now,” she groans. 

“Never thought you’d ask, babe,” he teases, moving over her then pausing to look in her eyes. “Is this alright, or do you want to be on top again?” 

“No,” she smiles, “I want you on top.” 

His hips fall between her thighs, and it feels so perfect being with her like this. He pushes himself up, and taking himself in his hand, he dips the tip of his cock between her folds. “You’re so wet, darling,” he murmurs. “Completely soaked for me, aren’t you?,” he says pushing into her deeply, making her cry out. 

Robin stills for a moment, worried he may have hurt her, but he was certain she’d be fine considering how wet she felt. 

Regina looks into his eyes, and her embarrassment starts to fade away into nothingness. “I am wet for you. You’re the reason I’m soaked. Now fuck me deep with that amazing cock of yours.” 

His eyes go wide in surprise but he manages a sweet smile, pecking her lips as he starts to thrust into her, her head tipping back gently with each rap of his hips against hers. “I love it when you talk to me that way, like this.” 

She moans into his mouth, kissing him deeply, his tongue mimicking the movement between her thighs. Their fingers lace together as he presses her hand down into the mattress by her pillows. 

Robin picks up momentum, his thrusts becoming faster and deeper, to where he’s buried every last inch of him in her. Regina’s wet walls hug his cock, the trembling aftershocks of her last orgasm making him weak. 

He looks into her eyes at the same time he feels a tightness around his cock, slowing him down. “How does that feel?,” she asks, squeezing him once more, then again. 

“Like heaven, love. Don’t stop.” 

He tries to slow down the movement when he feels her tightening around him—a different kind of tightening—and her moans start becoming louder. “Are you close again babe?” 

“Mmmm!,” is her answer, eyes closed, she nods furiously. He decides to pick up the pace once more, thrusting as deep as he can into her, and then she cries out loudly as her orgasm takes over her again. 

Watching her come, feeling her walls squeeze his cock like a vise, Robin topples over the edge and spills deep into her, calling out her name.

He slows his movements gradually, the sensation of his semen still ejaculating out of him, and he looks down at Regina in his arms, tenderly planting kisses on her lips, her jaw, her cheeks, then burrowing his head into her neck where he breathes her in. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, dirty girl,” he says, his teeth lightly nipping her neck as she sighs contentedly.


	12. Chapter 12

They’d fallen into a comfortable routine since that long Thanksgiving weekend. Monday to Friday, they remained courteous and professional, the only person at Blanchard Snow who knew they were in a relationship was Trina, and Regina made sure to have a private conversation with her prior to the start of their work week, and that’s what she did on Sunday, after she and Robin got back to his home. 

When they’d arrived in the early afternoon hours, Emma and Trina were playing Monopoly Junior with Roland. Killian and John were out in the backyard, preparing grilled burgers, chicken, and corn on the cob. 

Lola immediately jumped on Regina, excitedly licking her face as Regina petted her lovingly and kissed her head, whispered “Did you miss me? I missed you too, baby girl.” Roland was right behind Lola and when Regina looked over at him, he crooked his index finger, gesturing for her to kneel down to his height and when she did, he put his arms around her and kissed her cheek, saying, “Thanks for bringing Lola over to play with me this weekend, Regina. I had so much fun!” 

“You’re welcome, Roland, anytime. I’m sure Lola had a lot of fun with you too,” she smiled as she hugged him back while Lola pressed her nose in between them.  

Robin put his hand on the small of her back and whispered in her ear, “Would you like to stay and have lunch with us or do you need to get back?” 

“Lunch sounds lovely, but I actually need to speak to Trina privately first.” Trina looked up at the mention of her name, glancing her eyes over to Robin before her eyes returned to Regina. 

“Of course,” she said, “We can go in the kitchen?” 

Regina looked at her, then Robin, and said, “I was wondering if we might use Robin’s room? If that’s alright of course,” her eyes questioning. 

“Certainly, ladies, go on,” he nods. “Everything should be decent in there, but I’ll just check real quick,” he says, and quickly disappears down the hall here they can see he’s turned on a lamp. They hear the sound of blinds opening, and then his voice calling out, “Come on inside then.” 

The women walk down the hall, and as Robin passes Regina on the way out, he winks, giving her fingers a firm squeeze. She returns a soft smile before entering the room with Trina, slowly and silently closing the door behind them. 

Trina eyes her boss curiously. “You’re going to warn me not to gossip about you and Robin, aren’t you?” 

Regina winces. “Am I that obvious?” 

Trina chuckles. “Well, kind of. But I get it. And you have every right to a private life. I would never say anything. To anyone,” she promises, her tone serious.

Inhaling a deep breath, Regina nods and exhales slowly. “Good. I don’t need this getting out and becoming an issue at the firm. Robin and I have already discussed it and we’ve agreed to keep things between us professional as usual so that no one suspects a thing. However, as you know, Daniel Colter has been calling the last few weeks trying to set up a meeting with me after hours. I have no intention of meeting him after hours, but Daniel and I do have business to discuss pertaining to a personal matter, so please schedule a lunch meeting with him this week, preferably Thursday or Friday.” 

“Of course, Mrs. Mills—,” and Regina’s look stops her as the woman smirks at her knowingly. “I understand, Regina,” she corrects, the smirk blooming into a smile. “And while I know that this is none of my business either, I’d like to just say off the record…” and she leans in a little closer to Regina, “I’m really happy for you—both of you.”

 The two women stare a little awkwardly at one another until Regina’s lips curve up in a warm smile of her own. “Thank you Trina,” she says, walking over to the door. She gestures for Trina to exit before her, rejoining everyone else in the living room. 

Roland’s now playing with Emma and Robin, and Killian stands watching them from a corner as he sips a beer. When he makes eye contact with Regina, he gives her a wink and tips the bottle toward her. “Would you care for one, lass?”

She smiles and shakes her head, while Robin tugs her hand down for her to sit next to him on the armrest of the couch, his arm coming around her waist. Roland is winning (or rather, Emma and Robin are letting him win), and Lola lies down next to the boy. Overnight they’ve become fast friends, and Regina feels a stab of jealousy at the ease and simplicity of life and of friendships when you’re young.

John comes back inside from the yard, announcing he’s got a tray of freshly cooked food and everyone should help themselves. Emma tells Roland it’s time to put the game on hold so they can wash up and eat, and the boy nods complacently, marveling his father, who mutters that perhaps Emma would consider babysitting him more frequently, making the woman roll her eyes playfully. 

Roland and the ladies sit at the table having washed up quickly, and the men remain standing around the kitchen since there are only four chairs at the table. Robin reaches for a beer from the fridge, asking if she’d like one, but Regina says she prefers water. The afternoon feels relaxed in the company of friends and affable conversation. Regina imagines herself getting used to this life. It’s such a change from her usual quiet existence, now that it’s just her and Lola in that big house. And even when Leo was alive, they rarely had friends over, and they didn’t have any mutual friends. On occasion, Leo would host a gathering at the house, and Regina would have to board Lola for the evening to mix and mingle with business associates of her husband’s. She often invited Mal, and even with the promise of top shelf booze and fancy hors d’oeuvres, her friend always declined saying there was no point in attending what was clearly meant as a solicitation for Leo to secure future business. 

Looks around the room at this group, a small smile forms on Regina’s lips in gratitude: that’s she’s here, that she decided to give Robin a chance. Everything is so calm and normal. As if he could read her mind, his warm hand caresses her shoulder lovingly. Yes, she could definitely get used to this. When she looks up at him with the same smile, his eyes crinkle at the corner before he whispers, asks her if she’s alright and if there’s anything he can get her. They fail to notice Roland watching them interact as he chews his food. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

After lunch, Regina and Robin excuse themselves and go into Robin’s bedroom to say goodbye privately. Knowing they can’t let it play out in a house full of people and his son, they take a few moments to kiss and let the other know they enjoyed spending most of the weekend together, with Robin quietly promising to text her to make plans for next weekend, making Regina chuckle at his antics. 

“You’re going to text me, during the workday? Knowing my office is fifty feet away from your desk?” 

Robin’s fingers squeeze her waist, and she gets even closer to him, his lips bus hers gently and sighing, “Mmhmm. I like being bad.” At her questioning look, he continues. “See, I have a rather strict boss and I’m certain she doesn’t care for me using company time to text my…lady friend about plans for the weekend.” 

Regina slaps her hand playfully on his chest, rolling her eyes and scoffing, “Your _‘lady friend’?_ Is that all I am to you?,” she asks playfully, and takes a step back the distance between their bodies growing. Her hand reaches down between them, making him groan when she presses her palm against his crotch, feeling his length hardening. 

“You are whatever _you’d_ like to be to me, babe,” he says then inhales sharply. “Mmmm, that feels so good,” he rasps. “If this house weren’t full of my family, and my very much awake son, I’d take you right now up against this door, strip you naked and slip my fingers and tongue into your wetness first until you screamed my name. Then I’d bury my cock deep inside you. Make you come. Several times.” 

Her hand gives him a gentle squeeze through his pants, and her tongue traces his lips, making them both moan softly before she leans back, stepping away from him and teasing, “Promises, promises.” He frowns at her, and she looks at him with some disappointment, but they manage to turn the heat down and calm themselves before walking out of the room.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Roland whines a little when Regina clips Lola’s leash on, but she bends to give him a big hug and whispers that they’ll definitely come back another day and maybe even go to the park again very soon. Roland’s eyes light with glee, his small arms come up around Regina’s shoulders and squeeze her neck. 

She and Robin exchange lingering glances that only the adults seem to notice but thankfully ignore (except Killian who chortles then coughs when Robin throws him a dirty look), but no one says anything to make them feel uncomfortable. 

He walks her out and Lola hops in, scooting over to the passenger seat, comfortably settling down as if on cue, while Regina promptly turns on the car and air conditioning. It’s another mercilessly scorching day. Robin turns his head around to make sure no one is looking out the window, then takes her hand and brings it to his lips. He plants a few warm kisses on her knuckles. “I wish you could stay.” 

Regina smiles at him and murmurs _I know_ , but she reigns in her disappointment and promises once more to text when she gets home. Robin gives her a dopey grin and whispers _I’ll call you tonight_. They can’t seem to let go of each other, but she decides to be stronger, reluctantly letting go of his hand and hops up into her seat. She lowers the window while the air conditioning blows her hair gently and Lola lets out a soft bark. They both smile and Robin gives her a final, “Drive safe, love,” as she pulls out of his driveway and waves goodbye, watching her go until he can no longer see her car.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Walking back into the house, John eyes him from the kitchen and ducks his head sideways in a silent plea for Robin to follow him. The two men walk out to the Man Cave, and John closes the door behind them. Robin doesn’t say anything, waiting instead for John to start. 

“Be careful,” is all that leaves the man’s mouth. 

Robin looks bewildered. “I’m not sure what you mean, mate.” 

John sighs. “It’s just… Your divorce isn’t final yet. And didn’t she _just lose_ her husband? It all just seems so complicated and… Look, I don’t want you or Roland to get hurt again.” 

At this, a thick vein protrudes out of Robin’s neck. He’s a little annoyed even though he appreciates John’s concern, but he really doesn’t need this shit right now. “Not that it’s any of your business, John, but my divorce _will be_ final soon enough. Marian isn’t going to contest anything seeing as how she’s the one who left the marriage, and might I add, _her_ _son_. And no, incidentally, Regina did not _just lose_ her husband. He’s been gone nearly a year.”  

John looks contrite, nodding his head at his friend and clapping his hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, brother. You’re right. It’s none of my business.” He turns to go, but before he goes, Robin says his name, and when the man turns back to face him, Robin’s arms open and they embrace, clapping each other’s backs. They quickly step out of the embrace, and nod gruffly without making direct eye contact, a silent agreement that all is well and they’re cool. 

When they walk into the living room again, Roland has just been declared the winner of Monopoly Junior, and Emma and Killian high five him, giving each other a look. Trina  bounces up to John and takes his hand, whispering something in his ear. 

Robin’s watching his friends, knowing full well what’s about to happen so it doesn’t come as any surprise when the ladies announce it’s getting late and they should be going, tomorrow being a work and school day for everyone. He doesn’t begrudge them at all; in fact, he’s grateful they agreed to stay overnight with Roland (and most of this day as well), so he smiles at everyone and tells the ladies it was wonderful having them over and that he’ll see them again soon. Trina pokes his ribs playfully and laughs, “Right Robin, like tomorrow morning.” 

After Robin closes the door behind the foursome, he returns to the living room to ask Roland if he’d like to watch a movie or play a game. The boy looks up at him from the floor, stands and sits on the sofa. In a very grown up way, he pats the seat next to him on the sofa, an unspoken plea for his father to sit down beside him. Robin obligingly takes the seat next to his son, and when he turns to face him, the boy smiles. “Dad, I really like Regina.” 

“I do too, my boy.” 

“I think you should ask her to be your girlfriend.” 

“Roland, we’ve been through this. And, why do you care so much if Regina’s my girlfriend? You wouldn’t want your mother to come back?” As soon as the words leave his lips, Robin winces internally. He shouldn’t bring _her_ up. 

But Roland doesn’t even blink when he answers a second later. “Nope. She left Dad. Like we don’t matter. Regina doesn’t treat us that way. She’s kind and she’s nice, and she gives the best hugs. Plus, she has the best dog in the whole world!” 

Robin smiles at his son. “Let’s wait and see what happens.” And when the boy looks dejectedly down at his shoes and nods, quietly murmuring that he understands, Robin goes on. “It’s different when it’s grown ups, Roland,” he says gently, not wanting to dash any hope, but also unable to disclose what’s happening because it’s only just begun. Even he and Regina hadn’t had much of a conversation as to their relationship, and a part of him suddenly feels unsure; after all, she seemed to have ended things with Andy quite quickly, from one minute to the next, before starting things up with him, and this happened after weeks of insisting she only wanted to be friends. Robin suddenly frowns, finding himself feeling a little miffed, and it’s Roland who brings him out of this reverie.

“Dad, are you mad about something?,” the boy wonders. “Was it me? Did I do something wrong?” 

“No, not at all,” he answers, pulling his son to his side and kissing the top of his head. “How about a round of tennis on the Wii?” 

Roland’s smile brings him back to the present, and his resentment fades away in the realization about just how lucky he is regardless of what’s happening with his romantic life.

Nonetheless, he mentally makes a plan to take Regina out next weekend. Whatever this is, he wants to be certain they remain on the same page, unaware that this happy feeling would soon be filled with unforeseen complications within a few days. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Tuesday afternoon at Blanchard Snow finds everyone busy working on their assignments, but because their desks are across from each other’s, Robin overhears Trina making a reservation at Toscana Divino for two this Friday afternoon in Regina’s name. Suppressing a smile, he brings up her calendar on his computer to see who she’s got an appointment with, and humming when he sees the time has been blocked off with no name on the schedule. In fact, she’s leaving at lunchtime that day and not returning to the office. She hadn’t mentioned anything to him and Robin has to fight the urge to waltz into her office, and ask who she has plans with, all the while he believes it’s him but she hadn’t mentioned anything so he’s naturally curious. Being that he’s not a neanderthal, and she’s given him no reason for suspicion, he closes the calendar, his thoughts reminding him they’re together now, and her words and her flirty texts prove that she wants no one else, even if they haven’t had that particular conversation. 

Since their weekend alone together, Robin had been on the receiving end of some sweetly flirtatious messages and an occasional naughty photo of her cleavage, or the one she sent him last night of her bra, panties and a set of garter belts, the message read _‘Laying my clothes out for tomorrow. Like what you see?’_ They’d traded texts back and forth, until the need for release had them dropping their cell phones to the side and their hands wandering into their underwear, searching for release until they could be together again. Robin couldn’t risk his son or friends listening to his dirty talk through the walls, so he always opted for sexting instead. Regina loved it and responded in kind. 

Though she definitely had a sassy, overly confident side, Robin had noticed she could also be quite reserved, and sometimes when she’d utter something sexy, she’d seem a little nervous, a little embarrassed, almost like she’s expecting he’d laugh. But Robin only thinks of encouraging her, and when he senses that in her, he’ll sometimes call her and when she answers, he’ll grunt huskily urging her to go on, and her shyness vanishes. When they’d been together it was almost comical to watch her school her features back, raising her chin and looking him defiantly with fire in her eyes. He finds it even sexier when she’s wearing her glasses and biting her lip. Her coffee colored eyes sparkle with mischief and the corner of her lips rises in a soft smirk. It’s hard to resist the urge and not pull her closer to him and kiss her senselessly, and she knows this and has teased him a few times at work knowing what it does to him.

Lost in thought, Robin brings up their texts on his phone, and a smile tugs at his lips when he reads the nickname he’s given her, displayed simply as _Her_ underneath a circle with the initials _HM_ above it. He stops a moment, recalling their conversation last Saturday night after they’d showered together, when he told her that one of the things he looked forward to most were her sexy text messages. 

 

 _With one eyebrow raised, she’d given him a devious smile, before admitting, “You know, it might not be a bad idea to change my name on your phone. The last thing either of us need is for someone at work to see an incoming text on our phones. I’m not sure you realize how much of a gossip Larry Cross is. Tom Kent’s not too far behind either, so,” she exhales loudly, sitting up to look at him bringing the sheet up in her fist to cover her breasts much to his dismay, and turning toward his side, “what should we call me? Betty? Lydia? Angie? Eva? Oh! I know:_ Lana _.” Her eyes go wide as if she’s had a breakthrough._

_He looks at her as if she’s lost her mind, then lets out a loud laugh, propping himself on his elbow and turning sideways toward her. “No, no. None of those. It’s too confusing. What if I knew a woman by any of those names?”_

_“Do you?”_

_“No, but I could meet one.” At this, Regina tilts her face to the side and raises her eyebrows again questioningly. “Anyway, that’s not the point babe. I thought we’d give you an actual_ nickname _, not a proper name.”_

_She narrows her eyes at him, and her nose wrinkles, making him chuckle. He finds her so cute and irresistible, more so when she’s not intentionally trying to be. “I think you’re overthinking this,” she says._

_“Hear me out. I was thinking more along the lines of_ Sexy Librarian _. Or_ Hot Lips _. Or what about_ Evil Queen _?” he asks inquisitively._

_Her jaw drops open in disbelief and she deadpans, “Robin, please tell me you’re kidding.”_

_“What’s wrong with those?”_

_Regina shrugs her shoulders at him, and huffs, “I don’t know, they all sound…sexist. And that last one is weird,” she tells him, shaking her head in disagreement, her lips puckering in what appears to be disgust. “What exactly makes me evil? Is it because I almost fired you?,” she laughs and he looks at her in mock offense. “I don’t like any of them. Think of something else,” she orders, shaking her head._

_“Yes, Your Majesty.” It’s automatic, and Regina’s smile becomes wider when Robin shifts closer, bringing his left hand up to cradle her face and plant a slow, deep kiss on her lips. The same hand slowly makes it’s way down to hers, the one clenching the sheet, releasing it from her grip, his thumb stroking her nipple sensually as she fell back into the pillows and Robin moved over her._

_Though they’d dropped the nickname subject, he knew what her nickname would be, and since it’s his phone anyway, he didn’t bring it up afterward. While she fixed them something to eat the next day, he deleted the name Regina Mills-Blanchard from his contacts, replacing it with his choice. And for good measure, he’d added the little crown emoji to the end of her name._

 

With a smile on his face, and ignoring the twitch of his cock in his pants, Robin types out a quick text to her. 

_RL: I overheard something._

_HM: That sounds ominous._

_RL: You have a lunch reservation for two this Friday?_

She doesn’t type anything back. He’s staring down at his phone, waiting for the three dots to appear but they don’t. He sighs and looks over to her office door. It’s open so he walks by, only to see she’s on a call and writing something on a pad, her cell phone  face down on her desk. She doesn’t see him, so he returns to his desk and sends one more text. 

_RL: Will you need me that afternoon? ;)_

The dots appear and he shifts in his seat. He’s not sure what exactly it is about this woman that puts him on edge in a good way. It’s as if he’s addicted to her. He can’t get enough of Regina, enough of everything about her. Her taste, the way her skin feels, the way her mouth wraps around him. Before he gets carried away, rogue thoughts interrupt him, entering his mind from out of nowhere, warning him to be cautious, that he doesn’t fully know who Regina is and that in time everything about her will be revealed to him. 

 _HM: On a call._  

Robin looks down at the message and puts the phone back in his pocket, not wanting to disturb her anymore, and busies himself instead with the report he’d been typing up. He’s soon focused intensely on his assignment, ignoring everything around him. He vaguely hears Cross laughing loudly at something Kent said that made Trina snicker. He doesn’t bother to ask, knows they’ll tease him for not paying attention to them and their antics, and call him an ass kisser only because he’s guilty of diligently working. Come to think of it, he _has_ kissed her ass. Several times last weekend. He even gently bit those firm glorious globes a bit. His cock twitches again in his pants recalling the memory of her questioning with a loud yelp, _‘Did you just_ bite _my ass?’_ And his answering rasp, _‘Of course not love, I’m just sampling a nibble. You are delicious, every last inch of you.’_  

Taking a deep breath, Robin continues to type. He tells himself to stay focused and in control. He will not permit images of Regina’s naked flesh slicked with sweat, writhing beneath him distract him from what he’s doing. The way her lips taste, the soft, salty skin of her neck, the silkiness of her hair caught between his fingers. Robin closes his eyes and counts to ten, taking deep, soothing breaths in the hopes they will calm his libido, and reminding himself where he is. 

Trina looks over at him, eyebrows raised in question and mouths _Are you alright?_ He nods, giving her a friendly smile and a wink. 

He’ll wait a couple minutes, and when he’s sure his erection has subsided enough that it’s no longer visible through his pants, he’ll stand and make his way to the kitchen and get himself a bottle of cold water. He reasons it’s the next best thing to a cold shower, and to help himself cool off, he stops typing for a moment and his eyes land on the photograph of him and Roland when they’d gone camping. 

Robin remembers how excited Roland had been to go. They’d rented an Airstream and John lent them his truck since Robin’s Honda wasn’t practical for towing a camper. Robin knew that Roland would be fine sleeping in a tent on the ground, but his son had been adamant about having a camper ever since his friend Peter told him about the six week-long cross country trek he and his family had taken over the summer, how they’d enjoyed home cooked meals, board games, and making S’mores over the campfire, relishing in the adventures of the trip itself as well as the great outdoors without having to sacrifice modern conveniences like indoor plumbing and his mother’s crockpot lava cake with fudge frosting and whipped cream. 

His mind now entirely off Regina and their weekend, Robin gets up as planned, heading toward the break room. The overhead motion lights turn on when his foot crosses the threshold from berber carpeting to tiled floor, and he opens the fridge, his hand wrapping around the neck of a bottle of Fiji water, smiling when he glances at Regina’s case of sparkling La Croix Grapefruit. He absentmindedly twists the cap off, tossing it gently on one of the tables, and reaches into his pocket again for his phone as he takes a generous sip. 

His thumb presses the home button but he notes with some disdain that Regina still hasn’t responded to his earlier texts. He continues drinking from the bottle at a more leisurely pace, thoughts floating between memories of camping, mosquito bites, and the way Regina’s tongue caresses his in heated kisses. 

She should never have texted him that photo of her underwear late last night because it is ruining his day. 

Hanging his head resolutely, Robin chuckles and head back to his desk, stopping to chat briefly with Kent and Cross. This time they’re talking about boxing, a sport Robin has no interest in so it’s only a couple of minutes before he’s rounding the corner toward his workstation. He catches Regina telling Trina that she’s leaving for the day and to call or text should anything arises or if she needs her. 

Robin calls her name, and she turns slightly toward him with a frown, asking if it can wait. Her tote hangs by her side and her large sunglasses are on her head, keys dangle softly from her fingers. “Of course,” he nods, his eyes betraying him a little. He’s concerned and she can tell. It’s been awhile since he’s seen her visibly upset and he _wants to_ ask, but knows he must wait. Whatever it is that’s going on is not usual, and he trusts she will tell him later anyway so he doesn’t push, sitting down at his desk instead and picking up his work where he’d left off.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Robin leaves the office right at five. He hasn’t heard from Regina so he decides to make a couple of stops, including picking up a rotisserie chicken, steamed veggies, and some mashed potatoes for dinner for himself and Roland, then stops at a Redbox kiosk to rent a DVD. Trying not to dwell on whatever it is that ’s bothering Regina, he focuses on getting home to his son and relieving Mary Margaret. 

When he pulls into his driveway, he notices Mary Margaret’s car is there, but there’s also another car he doesn’t recognize on his front lawn. Frowning, he parks and gets out, the bag of food in one hand and his crossbody messenger bag hanging off to the side of his hip, the DVD tucked away in it’s front pocket. A thin sheen of sweat covers his forehead instantly, and he kicks the car door shut with one foot, frustrated by the oppressive heat. He arms the car, walking quickly up the steps and stands before his front door. Before he’s put the key into the lock, Mary Margaret opens it with a bright smile on her face—and a tall, blue eyed man with dark blonde hair is standing next to her, also smiling.

“Hello,” Robin says as he walks into his home and drops his keys into the bowl on the small entryway table, placing the bag of food next to it. 

“Robin,” Mary Margaret says, “I’d like you to meet David Nolan. David, this is Robin Locksley, Roland’s dad.” 

They shake hands as Mary Margaret explains, “David and I have been seeing each other for a few months now. When I got to my car this afternoon with Roland, I had a flat so I called David. He put on the spare but he followed me to make sure Ro and I got here fine,” she finishes smiling up adoringly at the man. 

“Well, I thank you both and David, welcome to my home. Now where is Roland? Doing his homework I hope?” 

“Yes,” Mary Margaret answers nodding. “And now that you’re home, we’ll be leaving.” 

Having heard his father’s voice, Roland rushes out from his bedroom and slams into Robin, his arms goind around his waist in a big hug. “Hi Dad! I’m almost done with my homework!,” he announces proudly. 

“Hello Roland, that’s excellent. I may just have a surprise for you later, after you’ve finished it and we’ve eaten dinner,” Robin tells him. 

David is standing a little awkwardly watching father and son as Mary Margaret gathers her things and bids them goodbye. David mutters that it was very nice meeting them and Robin returns the sentiment. Before she steps outside, Mary Margaret turns and whispers, embarrassment lacing her tone, “I’ll explain everything tomorrow.” 

Robin tells her not to worry about it, then shuts the door behind them. Taking the bag holding their dinner off the entryway table, he walks into the kitchen to wash up and start cutting into the chicken. John will be home soon, and he may either eat some of the dinner himself unless he heads to Trina’s. With that in mind, Robin puts down the carving knife and fork and fishes his phone out of his pocket, pulling up Trina Bellvue’s cell number.

_RL: Everything okay with the boss today? She seemed upset._

_TB: I can’t say Robin, I’m sorry. It’s not my news to share._

_RL: Now I’m worried._

_TB: You have nothing to worry about._

_RL: Do you know who she’s having lunch with on Friday?_

_TB: Yes. Daniel Colter._

Nostrils flaring, Robin stares at the phone in disbelief.

_RL: Daniel Colter? As in her college boyfriend?_

_TB: They dated in college?!_

_Shit, shit,_ bloody fucking _shit._ This is exactly the kind of thing Regina has been warning him about. One little tidbit of information is enough to fuel the rumor mill. He doesn’t respond so Trina texts him again.

_TB: Robin, I won’t say a word to her. But please, don’t tell her I_

_told you either. She’d have my hide._

_RL: You’ve nothing to worry about Trina. I’ll see you tomorrow._

Jaw clenched, he picks up the carving knife and fork again, stabbing the juicy meat with a little more force than necessary. The rational side of his mind is urging him not to jump to conclusions. Regina has been nothing but honest with him so far. Surely there must be a reason why she’s having lunch with Daniel Colter. 

Still, it bothers him a bit so after he’s cut the rest of the meat from the carcass, he places the pan full of chicken pieces into the oven and walks toward Roland’s room. Peering in the doorway, he asks, “How’s the homework going?”

“Find Dad, just a little more to go and then I’ll wash up for dinner,” he says not looking up from his work, pencil in hand and a look of adorable concentration on his face.

Robin chuckles and tells him that’s fine, that _Dad’s just going to go for a bit of a run before dinner_ and if he needs him that he’ll be in the Man Cave. Roland nods his head and says _cool_ , and before Robin prompts him, he adds, “And don’t worry Dad, I promise I won’t open the front door to any strangers.”  

Smiling with pride that his son is growing up, Robin nods at him, then walks toward his own bedroom, loosening his tie and slithering it off one side of his shirt before tossing it haphazardly on his dresser. Once inside, he strips out of the rest of his work attire and quickly puts on a pair of loose shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt, then sits down on the bed to put on a pair of white athletic socks and his sneakers. 

He hurries out to the converted garage and steps onto the treadmill, realizing once he’s there that he’d left his cell in the pocket of his pants, but decides he’s better off without it right now. He needs some time alone to sort out his thoughts. _There’s got to be an explanation to all of this,_ he thinks as he punches up the speed and incline, his heart soon racing for entirely different reasons. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

After dinner, Robin and Roland are curled up on the couch side by side watching _Spiderman Homecoming_. Killian usually doesn’t get home until after 11:00 on weeknights, and John is probably already asleep in his room, having come home while they were eating dinner, and joining them at the table. As they were cleaning up, he’d told them he was beat and was going to take a shower so he could turn in early. He mentioned something about having to be at work at six the following morning. 

Robin still hadn’t heard from Regina, but he felt calmer and definitely in need of a shower himself after his run. His skin still feels a little tacky from the sweat, but his boy doesn’t mind, his head comfortably tucked into the crook beneath his arm. It’s not until he hears a soft snore that he realizes Roland’s fallen asleep so he picks him up and takes his son into his room, carefully turning down the comforter before laying him in his bed. Robin turns back once to look at Roland’s angelic sleeping face with the moonlight filtering in through the window, as he steps closer to the blinds, twisting them shut. He lets himself out of the room and shuts the door quietly behind him. 

Returning to the living room, he turns off the movie and DVD player and tosses the TV remote on the armrest of the couch, then starts turning off all the lights as he walks back toward his bedroom to shower. It’s only then that it dawns on him that he hasn’t looked at his phone in a few hours. Reaching into his pants’ pocket before dumping said pants into the dirty clothes hamper, his thumb presses the home button and he sees he’s got one missed call and a few text messages from Regina.

_HM: Robin, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to talk to you earlier._

_HM: Can you talk now?_

_HM: I hope you aren’t mad at me. I’ll explain everything later._

_HM: Something’s come up. This has been a tiring day._

_HM: I’ve got to run out again. Xx_

Robin looks at the time stamps. The last two messages had come in about half an hour ago, and the first ones she sent came in over two hours ago, during dinner. 

He figures he’s got nothing to lose so he texts her back.

_RL: Our timing is off today love. I miss you._

_RL: And yes, even if I see you every day, I still miss you._

_RL: Call or text when you can. I’ll be up for a while yet._

He waits in anticipation, looking down at his phone for a few minutes before sighing  and tossing it back on the bed. He decides it’s time to hit the shower and begins undressing. Hearing his phone buzz, he pulls his shirt off over his head and tosses it into the hamper, picking the phone up off the bed.

_HM: I’m with Mallory at Level 25. She needed to meet with me._

_RL: Everything alright?_

_HM: An attorney requested an urgent meeting with her this_

_morning and she knew I’d need a drink with the news._

_RL: An attorney? Who?_

_HM: I’d rather we spoke in person. Are you home?_

_RL: Yes, but…how much have you had to drink?_

_HM: Two martinis. I’m fine._

_RL: It’s still a bit of a drive babe. Stay there, I’ll come to you._

_HM: I’ve got my car here._

_RL: That’s fine. I’ll follow you. I’m further away. Don’t want you_

_driving that distance._  

_HM: Tell you what. Don’t drive all the way here. When I get home,_

_I’ll call you._

He’s confused. She’s obviously not telling him something, and it dawns on him that she’s also at the bar her now former lover works at.

_RL: You don’t want me to go because Andy’s there._

_HM: That’s not it at all. Trust me._  

Robin’s having a hard time with this. He knows Regina isn’t one to trust easily and no matter how at home they feel when they’re together, how perfectly they fit in each other’s lives, how it feels as if their souls have known one another for centuries, he also doesn’t trust easily. After Marian, the nagging doubts rise up to the surface, making him question whether or not he’s being lied to and whether or not if it’s only meant to spare his feelings. 

_HM: Let me finish up here. I’ll text once I’m home. I promise._

If he was confused before, Robin is downright pissed right now. She’s being evasive and he doesn’t know why. The fact that she’s with her best friend Mal doesn’t bother him but out of all the bars in Miami, why are they at _that_ particular bar? He’s sullen and indignant, and the best thing for him right now is to shower and get into bed, and put all of this out of his mind once more until he can talk to her sensibly. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

Robin snores softly, having dozed off while reading in bed, the book having slipped down and to the side. A few soft taps knock on his window, and at first he thinks it’s just the wind blowing one of the palms fronds against it, but when it happens again in succession, he opens his eyes and shuffles over to peek through the blinds. Regina is standing there motioning for him to open the door. 

He’s letting her in a minute later, upset with her for driving that distance after she’d promised to text him when she arrived at home, but before he can say anything, she hugs him tightly, her head against his chest, breathing him in deeply. “Hold me a minute,” she begs quietly, and he notices how tense her muscles feel. She’s on edge,  and when she takes a step back away from him, her hands come up before her middle, and clasp as she cracks her knuckles and sighs.

“Are you finally going to tell me what’s going on?,” he asks, not bothering to hide the slight irritation he feels mingled with concern. He’s human after all, and he hadn’t been able to speak to her all day. Besides, he knows about her upcoming lunch this Friday (he is _not_ going to bring that up, he’ll wait for her to tell him, and hopefully she will), so he looks at her expectantly, gesturing for her to sit on his couch. 

She does so, but leans forward. Her posture is tense. She looks nervous, alarmed. “We’re alone?,” she wonders aloud, and Robin nods his head softly. 

“Roland’s been asleep a few hours, and John’s also out. He’s got an early morning. Killian’s still at work.”

Regina nods, licks her lips and takes a deep breath. “Mal got called into an urgent and unexpected meeting with Spencer Gold this morning. That’s the attorney I mentioned in the text. Leo’s attorney. Apparently, Gold’s been having me followed,” she says through clenched teeth, then sighs audibly, trying to relax when Robin reaches instinctively for her hand.

“Go on,” he prods gently. He wants her to let go of all that’s troubling her, wants to be there for her, his own anger quickly waning.

“There was another clause in Leo’s will, one that was only to be disclosed to me in the event I was ever involved in a relationship again. Basically, if I were ever to remarry, the same penalties would apply to me, the same ones listed in the other clause, the one ensuring I don’t practice law again and run Blanchard Snow instead. I would lose everything I own, everything I’ve worked hard for.” 

Robin is suddenly livid. He feels as if someone’s kicked him in the gut. He swallows audibly, tells himself to remain silent, and hear her out. Let her speak and get the whole story out in the open, and he lets her know he’s ready to listen to the rest by lightly squeezing her fingers in silent reassurance.

“Gold knows about us, Robin. He knows we spent last weekend together, that we’ve become closer. He had some sleaze ball with a camera taking photographs of us together in my home,” she looks at him, her eyes welling with angry tears. “This ordinarily wouldn’t bother me if it were anyone else. Hell, he did this several months ago with Andy only he didn’t go through Mal, he came directly to me, to try and intimidate me. I said my personal life was personal and to mind his own fucking business. I didn’t have to justify the nature of my relationship with Andy to him or anyone. But with you,” she pauses, hot tears threatening to spill. “With you, it’s different. Ever since we started getting to know each other, I’ve had this feeling like I was _home_. That’s what being with you feels like. It’s as though I was coming home.” She scoffs before going on, the tears winning as they roll down her cheek and she swipes angrily at them. “Of course, I should have known that life would kick me in the teeth again. First, my marriage turns out to be a complete fraud, and now that I’ve finally found my happiness, it seems my dearly departed _husband_ continues to torment me from the grave,” the word rolling venomously off her tongue. 

She turns to look at him, her eyes searching his eyes, seeking comfort. “I was sure I never wanted to get married again after Leo. But being with you, getting closer to you, I…I don’t know if…maybe I was wrong? I’ve been wrong about a lot lately.” 

Robin pulls her in closer and kisses her lips, faintly savoring the taste of the martinis she’d had earlier. “I know babe. None of this is going to scare me away. And for the record,” he kisses her again, pressing his forehead against hers, “I feel it too. I haven’t wanted to bring it up because I didn’t want to scare _you_. And because there’s something else, another matter we haven’t discussed yet.” 

She searches his blue eyes again, this time for understanding, and Robin feels guilty, looking down at the floor in avoidance for a moment before he speaks. 

“My divorce with Marian isn’t final,” he admits sheepishly. “It hasn’t even begun actually.” He brings the hand not holding hers to the back of his neck and exhales loudly. “I haven’t found an attorney yet, I haven’t even _looked_ for one. I didn’t bring it up because it hadn’t seemed like the time was right, but now with this…knowing how you feel about us…” 

Regina squeezes his hand in return, and tells him she knows plenty of lawyers. “Kathryn Nolan,” she says nodding. “She works at my old firm, specializing in family law. I could set up a meeting with her if you’d like.” 

A random memory vaguely crosses his mind. _Nolan_. Where had he heard that name recently? Shrugging it off, he looks at Regina and brings her hand up to his lips, kissing her knuckles firmly. “You are the most incredible woman. Thank you. That would be wonderful,” he says sincerely. “I do have one question however.” 

She raises her eyebrows at him, her earlier tension nearly melted and her body is visibly much more relaxed. 

“I overheard Trina making a lunch reservation in your name for Friday,” he starts, looking to see if she shows any sign of remorse or if she’s going to say anything looking for an out, but Regina’s expression remains unchanged, only she looks just a bit more tired and weary. She nods at him, reminding him about the text he’d sent her that afternoon, so Robin goes on. “I checked your calendar and noticed you wouldn’t be returning to the office. Would you care to tell me what that’s about?” 

“I’m having lunch with Daniel Colter. Daniel’s been practicing law in Texas,” she explains, her voice thick with exhaustion, so Robin wraps an arm around her, and leans them both back against the cushions, pressing her body against his chest as he soothingly rubs his hand up and down her spine. He remains quiet, only hums so she knows she can continue. 

“He’s been handling a legal matter for me. My Uncle Anthony, he died back in 2006 in Houston. He’d had an affair with a man named Charles all his life. When my uncle passed away, he left his estate to Charles with the understanding that upon Charles’ death, the estate would then be left to me. The problem is Maude,” Regina sighs. “Charles’ wife. She knew her husband was gay, and that he’d been having an affair with her husband. She knew Charles never really loved her and she hated him for it, but  allegedly chose to bide her time, all the while brewing up a plan to fraudulently will my uncle’s estate to herself instead.” She stops, clearly waiting for Robin to say something. 

“Where does Daniel come in?” 

“Since he was in Texas, I asked him to look into it for me. My father found something in my uncle’s things. Daniel hired a former FBI agent who’s now a private detective, a guy named August Booth. Booth’s been looking into it for Daniel on my behalf. From what I understand, Charles was diagnosed with dementia in 2005. Uncle Anthony urged him to prepare a will. They’d already agreed to the arrangement on the estate and Anthony knew he didn’t have very long. My uncle had been sick for a while, deteriorating progressively. Charles did as my uncle asked. He prepared his will and filed it with his attorney. When his dementia started to advance rapidly in 2014, Maude put Charles in a home that specialized in caring for elderly patients with dementia. She played her cards and convinced his moron of an attorney that Charles hadn’t been of sound mind when the original was drafted, and that she only needed to make one adjustment to it because the heir Charles had named—Regina Mills-Blanchard—was dead.” 

Robin is stunned. For the first time in his life, he’s happy he isn’t wealthy. This level of affluence comes with a high price he’s not sure he’d be willing to fight this hard for, and certainly not when there are so many charities and organizations across the world dedicated to helping people in need of basic necessities, like clean water, food, and shelter. Surely that much money can make a bigger impact on many lives versus just a few spoiled rich people? He’s never shared his personal feelings on the subject with Regina yet, but now he wonders if she’s someone who’d ever be willing to part with some of that wealth if it meant helping others in need. 

“That attorney never bothered to investigate you and your whereabouts? To find out you weren’t actually dead? And where is this Maude now?,” Robin asks shaking his head not entirely convinced people would go to such lengths for money.

Regina sighs exhaustedly. He’s only been listening to the story for a few minutes; living it was a whole other nightmare. “We don’t know,” she answers. “A couple of weeks before Charles passed away, Maude began withdrawing money out of their bank account. She also cashed out some investments and mutual funds. From what Booth has told us, she’s been operating with cash and moving through Europe and Asia. She’s been very good at covering her tracks, and at her age, we’re positive she’s not working alone. Booth found out she’s got a great niece named Zelena Greene-Whitfield, who seems to have fallen off the face of the earth around the same time of Charles’ death, and whose own husband had died. We confirmed that Zelena’s condo was rented out, and Daniel went to the property to ask, but the couple living there now couldn’t give Daniel much information. They just shrugged and said the owner had decided to travel overseas for some undetermined amount of time, and Zelena had instructed them to wire their rent to an account at a bank in Switzerland, that so far has remained untouched. Booth is still looking into it, but it’s been slow going since Maude and Zelena are on the move and using cash.”

“How long has all this been going on?,” Robin asks quietly, applying some pressure to her back with nimble fingers. 

Regina exhales audibly again, tells him that feels nice. “Almost three years ago. When Uncle Anthony died, there was so much to go through. My father and I didn’t go through everything at once. His things sat mostly untouched in my parents’ garage, and Daddy and I had been going through it little by little since his passing. We’d arranged to transport some of his personal effects after his attorney read us his will saying his estate would go to Charles, and we later learned that they’d been lovers most of their lives. Daddy just happened to find an entry in one of Uncle Anthony’s journals where he’d written about his arrangement with Charles and how Charles agreed to leave my uncle’s estate to me upon his death,” she stops for a moment and sits up. “I need some water,” she says standing to make her way to Robin’s kitchen. They both hear the jangle of keys unlocking the front door and Regina remains at the kitchen’s entrance, sipping a glass of water and looking at Robin who glances at the clock. 

“It’s almost midnight. That’ll be Killian,” he tells her, and as if on cue, Killian steps into the living room. 

“Hello mate, lass. Is this a private party?,” he asks them with a smirk. 

Regina shifts from one leg to the other, her shoes obviously uncomfortable and she narrows her eyes at him. “Not at all. I was just about to go. Robin, will you walk me out?”

“Of course,” he says standing. 

“Don’t leave on my account, love. I’ve had a very long day and am looking forward to retiring for the evening.” 

But Regina shakes her head, says she’s had a long day too and needs to get home. Killian nods in understanding, and bids them both good night.

When they’re outside, Regina looks up into Robin’s eyes. He can see how worn out she feels, his hands come up and caress her arms. He whispers, “I want you to stay. I don’t want you driving back home tonight.” 

She purses her lips. “We both know I can’t. It’s a weeknight, Robin. Roland’s got school tomorrow and we’ve both got work. I don’t have time to do the ‘walk of shame’ drive home in the morning _and_ make it to work on time.” 

“You’re the boss, babe. Certainly _you_ can bend the rules more than anyone else can.” 

Sighing she says, “You’re right, but, I have an early meeting tomorrow that I can’t get out of. Otherwise, I’d say yes because the offer is very tempting,” she admits giving him a soft kiss. 

“I do have one question,” he says when she pulls away, and she hums for him to continue. “Your lunch meeting with Daniel, I noticed you blocked off the rest of the day. If you have no plans, _I’d_ like to kick work off early and spend more time with you. Roland’s got a birthday sleepover that night which is actually lasting the weekend.” When she looks at him puzzled, wondering who in their right mind would host a weekend-long birthday sleepover celebration for children, Robin goes on. “It’s for his friends, they’re twins. Samuel and Deacon. The parents invited only three boys over for the weekend, and Roland’s one of their best friends. I’ve been told they’re setting up a large tent in the backyard for them. You know how fond Roland is about camping. Anyway, he won’t be home until Sunday afternoon,” he smiles at her, his fingers lightly squeezing her waist. 

“Oh that sounds like fun for him, and like it could have been a lovely weekend for us, too, but I’m afraid the reason I blocked off the afternoon is because I have to fly to Houston. My flight leaves just after six. Booth is meeting Daniel and me Saturday for brunch to brief us on his latest findings. He just got back from Thailand. Otherwise, I would have loved to spend time with you Robin,” she says wistfully. 

“It’s alright. I understand, babe,” and he can’t help the disappointment that slips out in his tone just a bit, though Robin wasn’t lying. He definitely understands. This isn’t a vacation, nor is it a leisurely day trip for her. His only concern right now is what Daniel Colter’s intentions are. “However,” he begins, “I do wonder whether or not Daniel will behave himself around you. I’m not going anywhere, Regina. I feel just as strongly for you as you do for me, and to be clear, I don’t want any other man anywhere near you,” he says firmly, and he holds her waist closer to him so their hips are touching, the movement making them both sigh. “Now I realize how this must sound, but I don’t care. I intend to have you _only_ to myself, and not even some bloody fucking _clause_ in your ex-husband’s will is going to stop me from wanting to be with you anymore than it can keep you from finding a way to return to your career.” 

At this Regina scoffs. “That’s the whole problem though, isn’t it? He couldn’t control me when he was alive and I was just too stupid to realize what he had been up to to question anything. I trusted him,” she whispers, vulnerability lacing her voice. 

He presses a kiss to her forehead. “We all make mistakes, and now you’re making up for them.” The tips of her fingernails slip under the tank top he’d worn to bed and trace soft patterns along his skin, eliciting goosebumps on his arms, and she smiles up at him. 

“How did I get so lucky?,” she asks. 

“We both did, babe. Now, you’re sure you can’t stay? Even if I promise to cook you breakfast in the morning?,” he adds, his hands coming up to caress her face, his thumbs stroking the apples of her cheeks tenderly. 

“Sadly no,” she says with a finality in her voice. “But, I do have an idea. How would you feel about coming to Houston with me? The return flight is on Saturday evening. We’d only be gone for a day.” 

Robin’s heart speeds up. On one hand, he would love nothing more than to spend more time with Regina, and getting out of town even if it’s just a day feels exciting. Making sure Daniel Colter doesn’t make a move on his woman is an added perk. But on the other, he’s the only parent currently in the picture, his anger and resentment with Marian rising to the surface. It’s unfair he’s the only one saddled with responsibility while she gets to do whatever she wants, whenever she wants. He lets out a long exhale and says, “I want nothing more, but I can’t just leave Roland. If something happened and I wasn’t here…” 

Regina senses he can’t continue so she nods in understanding bringing her fingers to his lips to silence him before she plants a few soft pecks on them. It’s not enough for Robin, who presses her closer to his chest and deepens the kiss. “Stay,” he breathes between kisses. “Please.” 

She’s never been weak. She’s always been strong enough to resist even the most persistent of charms and flattery. But Leo never caused her to feel things as deeply as Robin does, not in all the years they were married, and it’s suddenly scary, suddenly too much, so she presses her hands against his chest, murmuring softly that she’s got Lola, but Robin isn’t so easily distracted by her words of protest. He’s intent on changing her mind, nipping her jaw as his tongue darts out to taste her skin, his teeth graze her skin delicately, making her shiver. Possibly the hardest thing for Regina right at that moment is to stick to her guns and go, but somehow she manages. 

“Robin, I can’t. I want to, believe me, but you _know_ I can’t,” she tells him quietly yet firmly, the finality evident in her tone. 

“Alright,” he nods looking down at the empty space now between them, their hands clasped together, her keys hanging precariously off one of her fingers. “You’re sure you don’t want me to follow you home, make sure you get in safely?” 

Smiling at him, she teases, “I made it here fine, so I think I can manage. You should get back inside,” she tells him, tilting her head toward the house, “ and get some sleep.” 

Robin’s not thinking about the amount of sleep he’s missing, so he asks her to wait just a moment, and he jogs up the porch, through the front door and back into the house. A minute later, he’s outside again, keys and phone in one hand, and tucking his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans with the other. Regina silently admires the way the muscles in his arm flex in the moonlight. He’d left his tank top on and only changed out of his pajama bottoms, his bare feet now inside a pair of slip-on Vans sneakers. “I assure you,” he says when he catches her smiling, “this is not because I believe you incapable of making it home safely on your own. It’s actually for my own selfish peace of mind. So I’m going to follow you back, then drive myself home,” he says, giving her a slight gallant bow and motioning with his arm toward her Mercedes. 

She decides not to argue. His sincerity and chivalry are sweet and so rare these days, so she simply nods at him and gets into her SUV, and Robin gets into his car. 

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

They hit some traffic on the way to Regina’s. There was a college game that let out and a bunch of fans were honking and hollering at the top of their lungs, but they finally make it to Cocoplum before one in the morning, Robin’s car following hers down the long driveway. He’d told himself he wouldn’t get out of the car, but suddenly it seems quite callous to just watch her go inside that enormous house where she’s all alone with just one sole canine for a companion, so he parks behind her, and steps out quickly catching up to her and placing his hand on the small of her back. “I’ll just see you inside,” he says when she looks puzzled, but her face seems content, peaceful, and much more relaxed than she’d been earlier. 

“Do you want to come inside?,” she asks, knowing they still have so much more to talk about even if it’s already very late and only getting later. She doesn’t want him to go, she realizes. His presence brings her a comfort she hasn’t had in a very long time and she’s loathe to leave it. 

He answers with just one nod, his eyes crinkling at the corners when he grins. She walks before him and turns the lock with her key, Lola’s whines and excited huffs are heard on the other side, Robin plants a kiss to the back of Regina’s head. 

Neither of them hear the rapid-fire clicking of a camera photographing them from a distance.

 

*.  *.  *.  *

 

The photographer holds onto the the long lens, fingers expertly sliding in circles to focus and take the best possible images. The lens zooms in, taking multiple shots seemingly at once of their backs. The man and the woman’s fingers are intertwined. They’re smiling at each other, and the man moves in what appears to be stop motion  but it’s only the images being captured. The man moves closer to the woman and he places a kiss against the back of her head. When she opens the door, a dark chocolate, long-haired dog comes into the frame as both the man and woman reach down to pet the animal lovingly. They are oblivious to the animal’s reaction. It’s ears are lifted in alert, and it’s head points while sniffing the air in his direction. The dog barks gruffly a few times, low rumbling growls coming from it’s chest. The woman whispers something soothingly to the dog and manages to catch it’s collar before it runs in his direction, keeping the animal in place and coaxing it back inside the house. 

This is the closest he’s gotten, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t deliver. 

The man turns to look over his shoulder, a frown on his face. But the photographer can’t be seen in the darkness that surrounds him, the thick, lush bushes alongside the edge of the property providing cover. His finger hovers excitedly over the shutter release, knowing he’ll have to bide his time but snapping several more photos of the couple entering the house, the door closing behind them. He’ll stay there and wait patiently until the man leaves. His boss will want that included in the report. 


	13. Chapter 13

“I’m not leaving you alone here tonight,” Robin tells her as she’s bent trying to soothe Lola who’s clearly upset although Regina doesn’t know what it could be. Her dog is not normally this agitated, she’s always been very mellow and easygoing. Something seems off, so she nods, looking up at Robin.

“Did you see someone out there?,” she asks with a bewildered expression. It’s the only possible explanation.

Robin purses his lips, shrugs, and angles his head down toward her. “I didn’t but that doesn’t mean anything, I mean Lola is clearly sensing something unusual. Let me text Killian. He’s not going to be happy—”

Regina stands, ignoring the soft crick her knee makes. “No,” she says shaking her head. “This is my home. I’m a grown woman. I don’t need a man protecting me. If I happen to hear anything I’ll call the police. There’s no need for you to stay.”

He clenches his jaw. Damn woman. Why does she insist on being stubborn?

“Love,” he starts, inhales and takes her hands in both of his. “Perhaps it’s nothing, but…for my own peace of mind, please, let me stay. I don’t want to leave you alone tonight. Don’t worry, I’ll get up extra early in a few hours, get home in time to get Roland to school and you can be on your way to your meetings. But right now, I’m too wound up and I want to make sure you’re safe here. Besides,” he presses on when she opens her mouth, clearly about to argue. “I’ll take any chance I get to spend the night with you.” One of his hands comes up to caress her cheek, his thumb skimming her bottom lip, her smirk fading away when she sees the sincere concern in his eyes. He leans in to kiss her softly again. Lola huffs at their side and Robin can feel the dog’s fluffy tail gently whacking his thigh, making him chuckle against Regina’s lips. “Come on, let’s go to bed, try and get some rest.” She nods at him, and they walk toward her room, turning off the entryway’s lights. Lola starts to follow but turns slightly toward the door and offers one last low, growly bark.

 

*.*.*.*

 

His alarm goes off at half past five. Robin feels as though he’s been hit by a truck. Regina is still sound asleep next to him, her hair spread on the pillow and one hand tucked under her cheek. He kisses her shoulder and untangles himself gently from her, then sits up in bed and rubs his hands over his face. Lola stirs from her giant bed pillow, her body pressed up against the cool wall. He gets up from the bed and makes his way to her kitchen. He starts to prepare a cup of coffee for himself, without making too much noise. As he sips, he walks to her living room and takes a peek outside the window. Nothing looks unusual. The cars are exactly where they left them and the sky is still dark, though Robin knows in less than an hour day will break. The steam from his mug rises up, fogging the glass. He hears Lola’s paws on the floor, padding up to him. She stops a few feet away and presses her paws forward as she leans to stretch her back while blinking up at Robin blearily. Regina must be up. The dog makes her way to the kitchen and he hears her lapping some water in her bowl followed by the unmistakable flap of the doggie door as she heads outside to relieve herself. He turns back toward the window and looks out again, his eyes scanning the entire driveway and front entrance. He’s about to go outside when he feels Regina’s arms come around his waist. “Good morning,” she says, her voice still groggy with sleep. They had a long night and not enough sleep.

He turns in her arms, placing the coffee mug on a side table and wrapping his own arms around her shoulders then pressing her closer to him, breathing her in as he whispers a good morning to her as well before giving her a kiss he intends on keeping chaste but they soon both deepen. Stale breath doesn’t seem to bother either of them, he thinks, but after a few seconds she quickly breaks off their kiss with a soft pop and a shy glance at the floor. “Coffee?,” he offers, bringing his mug up for her to take and she nods, gratefully uttering a soft _thank you_. “From what I can see, everything appears to be normal so I’m going to leave soon. Unless you wish for me to stay and accompany you to work?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “It’s enough you stayed the night,” and when she sees he’s about to object to the statement, she adds, “not that I didn’t enjoy having you over,” and presses a small peck to the tip of his nose before brushing her own against it. “Butas you said, everything’s fine. For all we know it was probably just a stray cat. Or a raccoon. Go home, Robin. Get Roland to school, get his things ready for the big weekend sleepover, and then take the day off,” she says, her hand caressing his bicep.

His expression softens both at her touch and at the mention of his son. He knows he’ll likely be alone tonight since she’s flying to Houston and Killian and John are going to be out as usual. It suddenly dawns on him that he _could_ accompany her on this trip. He could always ask any of his friends to be on alert should Roland need anything; after all, it’s only an overnight trip. They’d be back the following evening. He’s never been to Texas, and he quickly does some math figuring he could pull together a few hundred dollars for his flight and then share her hotel room with her, but then he stops. Realizing she’s probably staying at some fancy hotel and his share of the room cost, when added to the price of a plane ticket for the first available flight, would likely put him at a nearly $1,000 unplanned expense, not including their food or transportation while there. He knows Regina would insist on paying for it all, and knowing this doesn’t bring him any joy; on the contrary, it’s a blow to his ego. Sighing heavily, he silently nods at her, and when he starts to step out of her embrace, Regina tightens her hold around him. “Robin? What’s the matter?,” she wonders, her hand caressing his stubble.

He quirks his head to one side. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you looked like you were doing some serious thinking then all of a sudden this look of disappointment crossed your face.” She purses her lips. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s nothing,” he says firmly, and shakes his head. “I’ve got to go and get him ready, like you said. Would you like me to take you to the airport tonight? Pick you up tomorrow?” His hands come down to caress her bare arms this time, goosebumps erupting along her skin. The thought that they’re always reaching for each other, that they always seek to comfort one another with a caress, a hug, a kiss, it warms him in an unfamiliar way. He and Marian never had this level of closeness, and she was never into making any big displays of affection. With Marian, they were always quick pecks and only after they’d had sex. In between those times, when she had to have been involved in her affair, the sex had stopped happening altogether. It was a whole other level of intimacy he never knew he’d enjoy as much as he does now with Regina. She enjoys comforting him, touching him, kissing and caressing him just because, and Robin is not going to complain over any of it. If he’s completely honest, this is the happiest he’s felt in a long time. 

“I was planning on taking an Uber,” she smiles at his mocking indignant scoff,“but I’d much rather ride with you, since you’re offering. Are you sure you can’t come? It’s just one night.”

He sighs at her wistfully, wishing Marian gave enough of a damn about their son to offer to take him from time to time on a weekend. Although given her disinterest, who’s to say whether or not Roland would be well cared for? “No darling, I’m sure I can’t. But I’ll be happy to be your Uber tomorrow night. Who’s keeping Lola?,” he asks in an attempt to shift the conversation. Robin does not want to discuss this with her, does not want to discuss his finances, nor his broken marriage. It’s bad enough he feels like a failure of a man most of the time.

“Lily’s coming to get her. She’ll be here this afternoon. Which reminds me, I should go shower and start getting ready.” Her lips quirk up into a devilish smirk. “Care to join me?”

He groans audibly. “You’re killing me. I’d love nothing more. But I should go. However,” he says and suddenly his hands are on her waist, quickly slipping down, shamelessly palming her ass, pressing her closer to his now twitching cock, thank to her mentioning they shower together. It doesn’t escape him that her breathing quickens or that herhooded eyes are full of desire. “Tomorrow night? When you get back? We’re coming straight here and then I’m going to make _you_ come and come. I’m going to make you scream my name. I want to feel you coming around my cock, your walls tightening, milking me dry. Several times. Then, I’m going to slip my tongue into your folds, and taste your wetness while my fingers slide on your clit in those tight little circles you love so much.”

Regina breathes out a warning _Robin_. His only answer is a chuckle. “Just something to look forward to babe, a little preview.” And with that, his tongue comes out and licks at her bottom lip before pulling her closer to him, angling his head down where his mouth beckons hers into another deep kiss and this is dangerous, he thinks to himself, because he’s now riled them both up and there’s at least another 36 hours, give or take, before either of them can do what they really want to do. Without preamble, Daniel Colter’s face comes to his mind, and his arm around Regina that afternoon at the park. Robin feels his blood boil.

“Fuck it,” he growls, and he bends, scooping her up under her knees, his other arm coming around to support her torso in a bridal carry. He takes her to the bathroom, kicks the door open with his foot, and when he sets her back on the ground, she’s tugging off his shorts at the same time his fingers grab the edge of her satin pajamas. He slips her nightgown up and over her head, then lets it drop to the floor. Their mouths only break contact for the brief moment he’d removed her nightgown, and any self-conscious feeling she had before is gone. In seconds they’re both naked, panting, and hands are exploring each other as they stumble into the shower. Regina reaches around Robin’s back to turn the water on. When it hits both their sides, they break apart gasping. “Bloody fuck!” Robin yells. The first spray of water felt like ice but mercifully it heats immediately. They stare at each other a moment before breaking into hysterical laughter, which only starts to subside when they begin kissing again, slower this time. Savoring one another, tongues tasting and teasing, exploring. Regina gasps when Robin’s finger finds her clit and begins moving in those very tight circles he’d just been talking about just a few minutes ago, making good on his promise. Her head falls back into the spray of water, her hair becoming drenched as the water cascades down her face, chin, shoulders, breasts. Robin looks down as water beads pebble on her hard nipples. He reaches down to suck one into his mouth, his finger never leaving her clit until Regina moans she needs _more_. He dips the same finger between her folds, loving the slick, hot feel of her. His cock is now fully erect, ready and throbbing, longing to be buried deep inside her. His tongue traces her jaw, alternating between sucking kisses and gentle nips while her mouth falls open on a particularly deep thrust of his finger. He can tell she’s extremely turned on, so he adds a second finger, his thumb rhythmically sliding on her swollen clit.

“ _Robinnnn…_ ” she moans on a shuddering breath.

“I’m right here babe. What do you need? You’re so beautiful like this. I want to bury my cock inside you so bad, but first,” he says, slowing down the movement of his fingers then gently withdrawing them. His eyes never leave hers, and the defiant look on her face is almost comical but he’s in no mood to laugh. He knows she loves watching him do this, knows she finds it incredibly sexy. Robin brings up his fingers, the ones that were just inside her, and opens his mouth to suck her juices off his digits, pleasured groans rumbling from his throat. Regina’s mouth falls open, moaning at the sight of him dripping wet with water and fingers coated with her. “I love the way you taste love. Can’t get enough of you, I want you all the time.”

He makes a big deal about it, and knowing how much it excites her, he opens his lips just a bit, so she can watch how his tongue licks his fingers clean. He closes his eyes and hears her inhale sharply.

“Well, that’s not exactly fair now, is it?,” she asks. And before he can respond, she wraps her hand around his erection, pulling it toward her, wrist twisting just as she reaches his tip, and then it happens so quickly. He’s barely stopped sucking her off his fingers, has just opened his eyes at the feel of her hand wrapped around his cock, when her knees fall to the floor, a gentle splat of water hitting the shower tiles. She takes him into her mouth, slowly sucking him in hard and deep. She looks up at him, her cheeks hollowing as she slides her mouth along his shaft. “Regina, you are incredible,” he rasps, throwing his head back and closing his eyes anew. His arms come out before him to brace himself. All responsibility exits his mind. He’ll let her do whatever she wants, for however long she wants. Regina never disappoints him sexually, which is why he makes sure she’s properly seen to as well, often making sure she’s had at least two orgasms before he enters her.

Right now though she’s taking her time, and obviously enjoying this immensely (probably as much as he is). He can hear her breathing through the deeper strokes as her lips slide closer to the base of his cock. She looks up into his eyes as she sucks him in, never breaking contact, before sliding back in the opposite direction, her tongue playfully fluttering underneath his tip, making him moan her name. She’s discovered he’s quite sensitive there, and this time it’s Robin taking shuddering breaths. “ _Fuck_ ,” he says softly, one hand coming up to remove a stray, wet strand of hair away from her cheek. She looks amazing like this: on her knees, her body wet and warm, the water sliding down in rivulets over her toned body, and her mouth full of his cock. The slide of her lips along his shaft alternates between caressing flutters of her tongue along his tip and careful deliberate grazes of her teeth along the top and bottom of his shaft, making him shiver. “Regina, love, please go deeper. I need more of you babe,” he groans, and when she does, he forces his head down to look at her, and he watches as she adjusts her position on the floor, spreading her knees a little further apart as one hand comes up to cup and massage his testicles, while the other goes between her thighs where he can clearly see she’s rubbing her clit. Her hand, the one massaging him, keeps the same pace as her tongue and mouth while they stroke him to oblivion.

She breathes deeply through her nose again, trying to take him in even deeper like he asked, to continue to do so as much as she can for as long as she can, and Robin resists the primal instinct to reach for the back of her head and push himself in as deeply as he can go. Instead he pushes her shoulders back gently and when her eyes reach his with a questioning look, he rasps softly, “Up. I need to fuck you now.” But she’s shaking her head, remains on her knees on the shower floor and takes him into her mouth, her lips reaching all the way to his base again, and he feels when his tip makes contact with the back of her throat, feeling the slight pulse of her swallow. “ _Ohh, love. Ohhh. Mmm, yes. God! Don’t stop!_ ” His eyes are half closed, but he forces himself to open them, not wanting this to end, not wanting to miss a single moment of this erotic act. When his eyes reach hers, she gives him a wink and brings both hands up to caress his cock, massage his testicles, sucking and kissing and licking him in any place she can reach. She’s glorious—magnificent really—and he doesn’t want her to stop but he also doesn’t want to come like this, doesn’t want to spill down her throat. He remembers he’s got to leave soon and it’d be a dick move if he came in her mouth then left right after. And all that aside, he _wants_ to feel her around him, wants to feel her walls milking him dry. Robin quickly assesses the large shower stall, and wonders if the built-in bench behind him will be enough for what he has in mind. He knows it’s where she sits to shave her legs; she’d told him about it once a few weeks back when he’d asked, wondering if maybe it had been put there for Leo. Robin reaches down and caresses her cheek. “I need to feel you around me, babe. Please, stand up and turn, hold onto the bench.”

Regina looks up at him opening her mouth and letting his cock hit her tongue lazily before doing as he asked. She stands, turns, and leans forward, and starts to place her hands on the bench, but before she’s completely bent over, Robin pulls her back up to share a deep kiss. When their lips smack apart loudly, her hand comes up and holds onto his nape, fingers tugging at the wet ends of his hair. He turns to shut the water off; it’s more of a distraction, and a waste, at this point anyway since no one is going to be actually showering just yet. His hands slides forward, nimble fingers twist and gently tug her already stiff nipples. He bends down with her, placing open-mouthed kisses along her shoulders and as far as he can go down her spine. Regina arches into his touch, her hand reaching for her clit but before she makes contact, Robin’s fingers are on her, starting that familiar, steady circular rhythm. She’s already so wet, and he easily slips a finger into her then brings it back up creating that delicious slippery feel he knows will heighten her arousal. “Don’t hold back, love. I want to hear you. You’re so wet and slippery, you feel amazing. And _mmmh_ , you taste so good too,” he murmurs, taking his fingers away from her, and just as she’s about to protest, he holds his fingersup to her lips. “Taste yourself, babe. I want to watch.” Her lips part and her tongue peeks out, licking his finger delicately at first before she sucks it completely into her mouth. “That’s it love. See how good you taste?” She moans in acquiescence, thenreleases him and whispers, “Fuck me Robin.”

“Not yet love,” he tells her, kneeling. Her cunt is a thing of beauty and from this angle, not only is she wet from their not-quite shower, but he can see the telltale slick moisture surrounding her lips. Her clit is still a hardened nub and he can see the tiny tip of it protruding when he asks her to lean a bit lower.

“ _Robinnn_ ,” she whines. His only response is a tender kiss to the juncture between her ass and her lower right hip, his hands massaging her thighs as his fingers come up, angling them at the apex of her center, and parting her folds gently with his thumbs. “What are you doing? I can’t take the teas— _OHHH!!_ ” All coherent thought goes out the window when Robin’s tongue comes into contact with her, running from the edge of her clit to her opening where he prods at her lips, lapping up her wetness as she’s panting, “Don’t stop Robin, _please_. Keep doing that. _Guhh!_ It feels amazing.”

He listens to her, but he also brings his right hand up and inserts his finger into her again slowly and deeply. Once in, out, again, in, out, and on the third stroke he adds a second finger. Regina’s groaning when his left hand presses her spine down gently, silently letting her know he wants her to go even lower if she can, but he’s not pushing, all he wants is for her to give him a better angle. His fingers move in a deft scissor-like motion inside her, but he soon senses it’s not enough. She’s not moaning as loudly as she was before, so he pushes in deeper until he the tips of his finger caress a textured wall that is obviously her G-spot. Regina groans, mumbles something incoherently that sounds a lot like _Robin_ , and _fuck_ , and _yes_ , so he keeps up the pace.

“Are you going to come for me?,” he rasps before angling his head and darting his tongue out to flick at her clit, making her moan again. She’s so far gone, he’s sure she probably hasn’t even heard him, so he stops the movement and when she turns around with a scathing glare, he takes the opportunity to lick his fingers once again and smirks. “I could feast on your for hours, babe,” his tongue reaches between her folds again, then moves back up quickly peppering kisses on her ass and hip. 

Her expression is almost comical. In seconds it goes from anger to lust and back again. “I need you _now_. So stop teasing me, I’m more than ready for you to—” But she doesn’t get to finish her sentence because Robin’s fingers are back in her, expertly thumping against her G-spot and when her head falls forward, her forehead rests on her forearm as she breathes out shakily. She’s not sure why he’s making this last so long. He’s got to get home to his son, take him to school. “Robin, _ahh_ , what, _mmm_ , what about, _God, don’t stop_ —don’t you… _don’t you have to_ …?”

“Have to what, beautiful? Or shall I call you _Your Majesty?_ ” he asks, fingers still rhythmically pressuring her in a delicious way. She almost loses it when he brings his other hand back to her clit and starts to furiously rub. She’s fighting for control of her emotions. It’s not easy for her to lose her train of thought but he’s just so good. So _very_ good, and she doesn’t want this to end but she’s also craving her release, craving _him_.

Regina can feel the pressure of her orgasm building and when she hears Robin insisting she let go, that he’s got her, she falls and it is intense. She comes hard, her walls tightening around his fingers, squeezing him, and she vaguely registers he’s speaking to her. She tries to focus on his words while drowning in the aftershocks of sensations he’s brought her with just his fingers and tongue. She finally registers what he’s saying, words meant to encourage her to take what she needs. “That’s it, love. God, I love it when you come like that. How do you feel babe?” And he continues to move his fingers inside her, letting her ride the rest of her orgasm out, not pulling out of her until her shudders completely subside. When it’s over, he stands her up, her back against his chest and his hands rise up to cup her breasts. She turns her face to meet his lips in a heated kiss.

“Bed,” she murmurs against his lips, turning around so they’re bodies are flush.

“We’re wet, babe. What about the sheets?”

“Fuck the sheets. Nope,” she smiles evilly, shaking her head at him. “Fuck _me_.”

Kissing, they stumble out of the bathroom, not bothering to dry themselves off and make it to the edge of her bed. Regina’s back is a little sore from spending all that time bent over, and Robin’s knees are sore too, so when they fall into the bed, they do so gracelessly. Looking at each other, they erupt into giggles that are short lived as their hands and mouths start to explore each other again.

Robin cups her breast, toying with her nipple and Regina scratches her nails on his shoulder, then brings her arm up and around it, her hand reaching up to tousle his wet hair. Their lips and tongues meet again. Regina shifts herself so she can lay down on her back while Robin leans forward moving over her. Instinctively she parts her legs for him and he doesn’t waste a single minute entering her, making them both sigh audibly.He’s been hard for a while now, and finally being inside her arouses him to the point that he’s got to keep himself from spilling too soon. She caresses his cheek and he tilts his head, placing a kiss on her palm, and closing his eyes to try and make this moment last. Thirty seconds feel like a lifetime, but he’s finally ready and he starts moving inside her. After a few lazy, deep thrusts, Robin reaches beneath her and lifts her torso up with him as he adjusts his angle, doing his best to continue to thrust into her while they settle in this new position. Regina arches her back into him, her legs extend around his hips and she crossing her ankles, thighs resting beside him. Robin reaches for her breast again, but this time his neck bends down and he lifts a firm peak and sucks it into his lips. The hand he’s got on her back is urging her to keep moving with him. “ _Mmm_ , I love when you do that,” she purrs. “ _Harder_.”

Without missing a beat, Robin sucks harder at her stiffened nipple as she asked, and Regina’s hips buck wildly, her hands coming up to his shoulders for purchase. “You’re so sensitive babe. And you’re so wet. Look at how easily you’re taking my cock,” he says as he looks down between them, and she looks down to where they’re joined too.

He feels the wetness of her hair sliding down to where his hands rest. They’re on her waist, practically lifting and lowering her onto his cock. He continues looking down between them, watching himself enter her at this angle. It only spurs him on. “Play with your clit for me, darling, please,” he begs her. “I want to feel you come on my cock this time. And tell me, tell me everything you’re feeling. Do you like watching us come together like this? Tease yourself, I want to feel you coming.”

“ _Mmm! God yes_ ,” she says, rubbing her clit, “Don’t stop Robin.”

“ _Never_.”

“I love feeling you inside me. I’m so wet…so wet for you.”

“That you are, darling. You’re so slippery and tight around me. You feels so amazing. Are you close?,” he grunts.

“Yes, but…God, I need more,” she whines.

“What do you need, babe? I’ll do anything for you,” he soothes her, kissing her jaw.

“My nipples… _ahhh_ …I need _more_ ,” but she doesn’t finish her sentence because Robin knows just what she needs, and bends his head down once more, a hand reaches for her breast and one of her deliciously stiff nipples is immediately sucked back into his mouth where he can graze it with his teeth, alternating between hard sucks of most of her breast in his mouth, and his tongue thumping the same rhythm on her nipple reminding Regina of his fingers inside her not long ago, playing the same way against her G-spot. Her fingers are now violently, furiously circling her clit.

Robin takes a moment to ask how it feels but when all Regina does is groan a breathy, “ _Guhhh…!!_ ,” his tongue comes back to the same nipple and he lowers his neck down, almost to the point of pain, but he doesn’t stop. The movement gives him the perfect angle to suck her nipple back into his mouth where his teeth go back to grazing it roughly.

“ _Uuhh, ahh, Robin, I’m going…gonna…come…ahhh!! Mmmnnhhhh!!_ ” Her cries fill the bedroom, and Robin thrusts even harder into her, taking her faster. Her walls spasm tightly around him, and he’s holding on, not wanting the moment to end but also now aware of the first rays of sunlight peeking in through the blinds. He pushes deeply up into her, Regina’s shudders and moans still audible though not as loud as before, and just as she’s about to tell him to stop, that it’s too much, Robin cries out, _“Yes, Regina…mmmm….mmm…! I…I’m…fuuuck…!,”_ as he spills inside her.

They’re breathing in the same air, giving each other gentle pecks on their lips, cheeks. Regina nudges his nose before she plants a kiss right on the tip. It’s an intimate moment, one he’s loathe to break so he says nothing. After several minutes, she breaks the comfortable silence. “That was amazing,” she sighs dreamily. Her hands are back on his shoulders and they’re still sitting there, arms wrapped around their bodies, facing each other completely naked as the daylight starts to brighten her room.

“I don’t want to spoil the mood and you know I would love nothing more than to stay here with you…” he starts but she cuts him off with an understanding nod.

“But you have to get Roland ready for school and his sleepover,” she says, finishing his sentence. “Go, I don’t want him to be late.”

He feels like a heel leaving like this, right after they’ve been together. “I shouldn’t have started this. We could have waited until tomorrow night. I hate leaving you,” he whispers, his lips ghosting sweet apologies over hers. She presses her lips more firmly against his, and their lips open in tandem, tongues gently caressing each other, before parting in a loud smack of kiss-swollen lips.

“You’re not. You’re just going to get your son ready for the day and his fun weekend,” she insists, clearly not upset about this in any way.

They take a few moments to gaze at each other, steal a few more kisses before Robin reluctantly untangles himself from her and bends to reach for his shirt which somehow ended up here in her room and grunting a soft _Shit_ before getting up off the bed.

“What is it?,” Regina asks.

“I can’t remember where I left my shoes,” he sighs.

She chuckles at him. “They’re by the front door.”

He smiles gratefully at her, then asks over his shoulder as he walks back to the bathroom to retrieve his shorts, “When does your flight get back?”

As if on cue, her phone chirps with a new text message. She reaches over to the nightstand opposite her, absentmindedly answering, “Tomorrow at 6:25, but… Oh.” She stops mid-sentence. “Oh no. It’s from Daniel,” she says looking up at Robin, who’s back in her room pulling his shorts back on. “August is in the hospital. Apparently he was assaulted at gunpoint last night,” she says, the horror evident in her eyes.

Robin feels uneasy at having to leave all over again, for more reasons and not just because they’d just had sex. He recalls the feeling of someone hiding out in her bushes several hours ago, his skin prickling at the memory. “Regina, love, cancel your meetings today. I’ll message Trina. She can reschedule them for next week sometime. I don’t want you out of my sight for a minute.”

She scoffs and rolls her eyes at him. “Is this because August was mugged, in Houston? I am not a damsel in distress, Robin. This happened and it’s very unfortunate, and I’ll be sure to call Daniel later to get more information. But I don’t need a bodyguard or a babysitter. I’m fine,” she insists. But when she meets his eyes, she instantly regrets her small outburst. She can tell he’s genuinely worried.

“Fine,” she sighs in defeat. “I’ll reschedule my flight. Go ahead and message Trina. Tell her I’ve had an emergency, that everything is fine, but that I’ll need to reschedule. Now,” she says, rising up from her dampened bed and sheets. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to take an actual shower please. I promise, Lola and I will drive to your house once I’m ready. We’ll stay the weekend and we won’t leave your sight. Happy?,” she asks raising her eyebrows in question.

Robin’s hands come around her waist and he pulls her tight against him. “I care for you Regina. So much. I don’t want anything to happen to you. That doesn’t mean I consider you to be in distress or in need of a bodyguard. You’re just… You’re _important_ to me,” he says in earnest, his eyes never leave hers. “And it’s not because of what we are, whatever this is—”

“And what exactly is _this_?,” she asks, catching him off guard for a moment.

He takes a step back from their embrace, putting just a bit of distance between them before answering her with what he hopes sounds like what it is: pure sincerity. “ _This,”_ he begins, “is a man who is falling in love with a woman. A brilliantly smart, incredibly sweet, irresistibly sexy, but also very stubborn woman.”

Regina’s hands come up around his neck and she pulls his head down for another kiss. “Okay,” is all she says, ignoring the last bit, and Robin doesn’t push. He already knows no good ever comes from pushing Regina.

He finishes dressing quickly, grabbing his shoes from the entryway and sitting down on her bed to put them on, and before Regina steps into the bathroom for a real shower this time, she hands him a key and a six-digit code scribbled on paper. “So you can let yourself out,” she explains. He takes her in once more, raking his eyes over her naked body appreciatively, shamelessly looking down at her breasts as she smirks at him before turning to walk back toward the bathroom.

Robin steps outside of her house and into the brisk morning air, musing that it must be one of Miami’s only winter days. Something bright green catches his eye on the floor of the light grey cobblestones that line Regina’s driveway. He almost misses it, but his eyes had drifted of their own volition to the shrubbery where he’d sworn he heard a noise last night. He walks over and bends down to pick up what looks like a business card. Turning it around, he reads, _Peter Malcolm, Private Investigator_. The address is not local; it’s from an office in Orlando. He pulls his phone out and dials John’s number. “Mate?,” he greets, “Good morning. I need to ask a favor: might you drop Roland off at school for me today? I’ve got some trouble come up, I’m at Regina’s, it’s nothing serious and I’ll tell you all about it later. Please tell Roland I’ll see him this afternoon.” John answers in the affirmative, he’ll get the boy to school, and tells his friend he hopes everything is alright.

Robin ends the call, and tucks both the card and his phone into his pocket, then walks back to Regina’s front door to let himself in. There is no way in hell he’s leaving her alone now, but he also doesn’t want her to worry. She’s got enough on her plate without adding one more thing. He turns back around and scans the periphery of the property. From the looks of it in the early dawn light, there’s no one there. It seems like she’ll be fine and she did promise she’d bring Lola with her so she’s not completely alone now, is she? Sighing, he presses the button on his key to unlock his car, then stands there unable to sit inside and drive away. If anyone were watching him, they’d think he was nuts. He looks down at his feet, while rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. He pulls his cell phone out again to text Trina, giving her Regina’s message about rescheduling this morning’s meetings. She texts back right away, asking if everything is fine, and he replies that yes, everything is just fine and no one is hurt. _Except August Booth_ , he thinks. This all seems rather bizarre, and Robin struggles between not wanting to worry or upset Regina, but also refusing to leave her alone which means he has to share this. It could be nothing, or it could be something important. Either way, she has a right to know whether anyone has been snooping on her private property. He presses the lock button on the key again, and when it beeps, he marches to her front door a second time, only now he lets himself in. “Regina? I’m back!,” he calls out.

A minute goes by and Regina scampers out of the bathroom, a thick plush towel wrapped around her body and another wrapped around her head. “Robin? Did you forget something?”

“No,” he says somberly, reaching into his pocket and fishing out the card before holding it out for her. “But I think someone did.”

“What’s this?,” she asks taking the card.

“It was out on your driveway, along the edge by the bushes. Remember how Lola was growling last night? I think this might be the reason. Now the only question: is why is an out of town private investigator following you? And who sent him?"

Regina looks up at him, confusion clouding her features. “It’s probably Gold,” she sighs.

At the mention of the lawyer’s name, Robin’s jaw visibly clenches. “Why the fuck would Gold have a private investigator following you?”

She sighs again, the tension evident as her fingers come up to massage her temples. “To make sure I’m _behaving_ ,” she seethes.

“No,” he shakes his head, “no. This doesn’t make any sense. Why would Gold keep having you followed? Didn’t you tell me he’d already had someone taking photographs of us together? Why keep it up? He already knows about us and he’s told you he knows.”

Regina realizes Robin’s right. There would be no point to continue having her followed if he’d already thrown this in her face. Not to mention, Gold has plenty of contacts here in Miami. He’d never bother to hire someone from Central Florida?

“Darling, go get dressed. Grab your and Lola’s things. We’ll leave together, and we’ll get this sorted out,” he tells her soothingly, his fingers flexing on her shoulder and she hands the card back to him. When she turns to walk back to her bedroom, Robin looks down at the address again, and wonders what the hell could be going on.


	14. Chapter 14

The photographer sits alone outside the cafe as the ocean breeze picks up around him. Behind sunglasses, his eyes dart curiously, looking at the people walking by. _It’s unusually busy for a Friday morning in December this close to Christmas,_ he muses. But this is Miami, and it’s South Beach in particular, an area known for high tourism at any time of year, especially with the snowbirds seeking escape from the bitter cold in exchange for beaches and the much warmer climate Florida offers year-round.

He picks up his _cafe con leche_ and takes a careful sip so he doesn’t burn his tongue. He’s had a few of these since the boss had sent him here on assignment to gather intel on Regina Mills. He didn’t ask for details when Peter Malcolm handed him the thin file with the location and dates of the assignment: go to Miami the weekend before Christmas and find Regina Mills, daughter of Henry and Cora Mills, then observe her comings and goings, and return with a report and photographs. No further information had been given, and as he needs the money anyway, he didn’t bother asking for more. In retrospect, it sounded a bit odd, and a lot creepy, but he decided it was a job and he wasn’t in a position to turn work down.

Pursing his lips, he takes out a small rectangular spiral notebook with his notes written in black ballpoint ink, one hand comes up to rest his chin as he’s glancing down re-reading and thinking about his report.

Interrupting his thoughts, the waitress returns with his change, and smiling down at him places two starburst mints beside his beverage and kindly asks if she can get him anything else.

“Just a glass of water, please. And thank you,” he says, a warm smile gracing his lips as he looks up at her. She nods and says she will get it right away, and when she turns, he picks up his cell phone and sends a text.

 

_Subject and home observed until 5:00 a.m. Left before dawn; did not want to risk being seen as subject was not alone._

_Photographs taken. Report ready later today._

 

He sits back, taking another sip of the coffee as a young woman in her early twenties glides on the sidewalk by his table, a pair of rollerblades on her feet, and a pair of headphones over her ears. He notes her floral perfume for only a moment before another ocean breeze picks up and carries it away in the salty air. He continues sipping his drink carefully. His waitress returns with a glass of ice cold water, setting it before him on the small table. Smiling his thanks anew, his phone chirps with an incoming text.

 

_Well done, Mr. Glass._

_Don’t be late with it._

 

Sighing, he fishes out his cell phone before taking one last sip of his coffee then chasing it down with several gulps of cold water. Ignoring the odd sensations of hot immediately followed by cold, he stands and heads back toward his hotel.

He’s got work to do.

*.*.*.*

 

Killian is sitting at the dining table across from Robin and Regina, steaming mugs of coffee in front of each of them. “Alright, tell me exactly what happened,” he says, eyes darting from Robin to Regina, pen poised in hand to write, and a small notebook beside him.

Regina licks her lips and starts, “I came over last night to talk to Robin. It was rather late so he insisted on following me home. When we got there, Lola was acting a little…odd.”

At the mention of her name, Lola’s ears poked up and she stood, padding over to Regina’s side and placing her head on her mistress’ lap. Regina absentmindedly strokes the dog’s head and sighs.

“What do you mean by _‘odd’_?” Killian prods.

“Lola’s usually a happy-go-lucky girl. Very docile. She never growls at anyone or anything. But she was definitely growling at the bushes by my driveway last night.”

Robin interjects, “I thought I saw something move but I can’t be certain whether or not it was the wind or if someone, or something, was there. It felt like there could be, but…”

Killian holds a finger up and looks from one to the other. “Hang on. The dog was growling at the bushes when you came home? And Robin, you said you saw a bush rustle, but you’re not sure if you saw someone or perhaps an animal? Stray cat?”

Both Robin and Regina speak at the same time, she answers _yes_ and Robin says _correct_.

“However, neither of you actually _saw_ anyone, did you?” Killian asks as he jots down notes.

“No. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving Regina’s so I…,” he pauses, looking to her for permission. Nodding gently, she angles her face down to look at Lola. The dog continues enjoying her mistress’ fingers gently stroking her head as her eyes blink sleepily. “I spent the night. When I got up this morning, I was about to get into my car to drive home when I saw this card on the edge of the driveway. It was in the same spot where I thought I heard the sound coming from last night.” He holds the card up and slides it over to Killian.

“Peter Malcolm, Private Investigator. Right. Well, let’s look this up, shall we? Give me one moment,” he answers standing then walking out of the room before returning with his laptop.

After a few minutes, he takes a deep breath and announces, “It’s a legitimate business. Malcolm’s been an investigator for over 15 years in Orlando. Prior to that he was with the Tampa Police Department.” He runs a palm from his nose to his chin and smacks his lips. “Do you know anyone in Orlando, luv? Anyone who might be looking for you?,” he asks Regina.

Shrugging, she shakes her head at him. “No, I haven’t been in Orlando since I was a child. My father took me to the parks a few months after my mother died, but it…” Her plump lips purse into a tight line. Evidently this is a hard subject for her. Inhaling a sharp breath, she continues, “It wasn’t the same without her, so I told my father I didn’t want to go there anymore.”

Robin looks over at Killian, but his hand takes hold of Regina’s hand, the one not presently petting Lola’s head, and he laces it with his own. It feels cold and clammy and he notes one of her legs is twitching. She’s obviously nervous, so he runs his thumb along the back of her hand in soothing motions, letting her know they will figure out who’s hired Peter Malcolm and why. Leaning into her, he murmurs, “We’ll figure this out, babe. Try not to worry, yeah?” His words are like a balm, and Regina smiles weakly at him, squeezing his fingers to let him know she appreciates the gesture.

“This should be enough. I have a contact in Orange County who can check on Malcolm for me. I don’t believe anything unusual is going to come up, but if it does, you’ll be the first to know luv,” he says.

Reaching for her coffee, Robin doesn’t miss the way Regina’s hand shakes slightly. It’s not fair she’s got this much burden to bear. If it’s not her late husband’s slimy lawyer taunting her with a ridiculously ironclad will, it’s her former boyfriend calling with news about someone she’s hired being assaulted at gunpoint. He wishes he could do more for her. If it were up to him, Robin would sell this house and ask Regina to leave Florida with him—make a fresh start someplace else. This situation further cements his belief about money and prestige, and that having them come with too high a price to be worth it. Tightening his hold on her hand, she looks into his eyes, a sad smile on her face, eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“Killian, I can’t thank you enough, mate. We won’t take up any more of your time. I suppose you’ll be leaving soon for Emma’s?”

Killian swallows before looking at Robin. “Actually, no. I’ll be here unless the two of you wish to have some privacy, in which case, I’ll be sure to make myself scarce. Or I can stay elsewhere.”

The men exchange curious looks. Taking the hint, Regina stands. “Excuse me, I think Lola should go outside so she can relieve herself. And frankly, I could use some fresh air,” she says, letting go of Robin’s hand. Walking over to the sliding glass door that leads to Robin’s backyard, she calls Lola’s name, and the dog rushes outside in an instant as Regina slides the door shut quietly behind them.

“Did something happen?” Robin asks quietly.

Pursing his lips, Killian takes a deep breath in and lets it out on a long, loud exhale. He opens his mouth to speak, then pauses, unsure of what to say. But when he finally speaks, it’s in a voice so low, Robin leans forward so he can hear him.

“Emma has decided that she and I need to spend some time apart,” he shrugs looking downward. “Things got a bit…intense this week. I thought we were in agreement about our relationship, but alas, we are not,” he finishes, roughly shutting his laptop closed as he stands. His chair teeters a bit, but doesn’t fall over.

Robin also rises, coming around to stand beside Killian. “What exactly do you mean by things getting intense. You didn’t propose to her, did you?”

“No Robin. I thought…,” he sighs. “I thought she wanted to take the next step, so I suggested we move in together. Before you say anything, just know I wasn’t planning on leaving you in the lurch. I planned to continue helping you financially, at least until you found another roommate. You know you’re like a brother to me…”

But Robin doesn’t care about that, and he waves Killian off. “I told you after Marian left, my plans were to sell this house anyway. You and John were never under any obligation to stay, not for any given amount of time. In fact, I owe you both a debt for moving in and helping out in the first place. And that’s a debt I may never be able to fully repay, but mate, I don’t expect _either_ of you to put your lives on hold for me.”

Killian angles his head and says, “It doesn’t matter anyway. Emma said I was moving too fast and that she wanted to ‘ _test the waters’_.”

At Robin’s confused look and his _I don’t understand_ , Killian clarifies, answering his friend grimly. “She wants to see other people, mate.”

Without meaning to, Robin lets out a loud guffaw, and points to Killian. “You’re joking, aren’t you? This is a sodding joke! Well done! You bloody got me,” but his laughter dies down immediately when his friend’s somber, serious expression looks hurt and the angry glare in his eyes lets Robin know. “I don’t know what to say.”

He doesn’t understand it. Killian and John have been like family to him. They’d all been friends for so long that they’d often joked they were brothers from other mothers. Robin is the one who introduced Killian to Emma, after meeting her a few years ago at the salsa dance studio. From the beginning, the pair had always seemed to get on very well, and Emma had never given Robin any reason to believe she didn’t genuinely care for his friend. It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dropped on his head without warning. Robin couldn’t imagine how Killian was feeling. The man had confessed several weeks ago that he felt Emma was ‘the one,’ catching Robin and John by surprise. Killian had always been quite the playboy, more of a love them and leave them kind of man. That he’d been with Emma this long was surprising.

Pursing his lips, Killian answers, “Aye, it’s true. I couldn’t believe it myself. But she was quite adamant that I give her her space, that I give her this time apart. And she insisted I should also see other people. She said this was a ‘break’ to make sure we weren’t making a mistake.”

“Maybe you need to go over there tonight. Talk to her. Find out what’s really going on,” Robin offers hopefully.

But Killian isn’t listening; he’s shaking his head, a sardonic laugh escaping his lips, and Robin feels awful. He doesn’t know what to say so he just claps a hand on Killian’s neck, pulling the man in for a brotherly hug. Killian’s arm comes up awkwardly to pat Robin’s back a few times, before he breaks away, head angled down as he sniffles a few times. Lola rushes in and they hear the sliding door closing once more, as the dog circles the kitchen in search of water. Killian rubs the corner of one eye with his thumb, then without a further word, and without looking at either of them, walks out of the kitchen, calling over his shoulder to Regina that he’ll get back to her with more information on Malcolm, before they hear his bedroom door close.

They stand there awkwardly for a brief moment before Robin reaches into a cabinet, taking a plastic bowl out for Lola. As he’s filling it with cool water over the sink, Regina asks, “Robin? Is everything alright with you and Killian?” Stepping behind him, her arms wrap around his waist, planting kisses between his shoulder blades, making him chuckle softly. “Oh, sorry,” she says, realizing he’s trying to give Lola her water, and releases him, taking a few steps back. When Robin stands back up, they both smile at each other as Lola happily slurps.

Reaching out, his hands come up to cradle Regina’s cheeks, thumbs caressing her and his lips lightly touch hers. “Everything’s alright between us, babe. Nothing to worry about,” he assures continuing to place soft kisses on her lips, cheeks, jaw, and forehead. Gentle reassuring kisses to let her know he’s got her back. “I’m going to get your bag out of the car, I’ll only be a moment. Then you can get comfortable, and we’ll do anything you like, yeah? But first, I do need to pack Roland’s weekender bag,” he adds, bringing her fingers up to plant a few kisses on them and the back of her hand.

“Thank you Robin. For everything,” she says sincerely. He winks at her before he walks out of his home and into the heat.

 

*.*.*.*

 

It is too bloody hot outside for December. It doesn’t even feel like Christmas is nearly here. There is nothing festive about the weather. His neighbors across the street are putting up lights along the roof’s edge of their house, the two stout palm trees adorning their front porch already strung with lights. Robin sighs, raising an arm up in greeting when they call out _hello_. Disarming Regina’s Mercedes, he reaches in to collect her bag before closing and arming the car anew.

When he steps into his home once again, he’s treated to the crisp, cool air circulating inside and the sound of pots and pans clanging in the kitchen. Dropping off Regina’s bag in his bedroom, he smirks when he hears her hiss _Shit!_ Then he hears Killian’s snicker. _That’s odd; he didn’t seem to want to talk to anyone just a little while ago_ , Robin thinks to himself but says nothing.

Getting closer to the kitchen, he hears Regina playfully scolding him. “I’ll have you know, I make the best damn _tortilla Espanola_ in Miami, Killian,” she’s telling him, a hint of amusement in her tone.

“I don’t doubt it luv, but you made enough noise out here to get me out of my room, and I’m also afraid we don’t have any of that _choreezo_ you mentioned,” he says, pulling two cartons of eggs out of the fridge. “We’ve plenty of eggs though. Think you can whip us up something else?”

Regina shrugs, sighing audibly. Robin contains his chuckle as he observes them from the living room.

“What? You’re really going to promise a hungry man food then refuse to deliver because you couldn’t get creative with was available? I’ll have to warn Robin about your evil ways,” he jokes.

Feigning irritation, she scoffs, cocking one eyebrow up at Killian. “Can’t you just run out and get us some?” Regina asks innocently. It warms Robin that she noticed something was wrong with his friend and took it upon herself to lighten the mood. When he steps into his kitchen, Killian is poised in a deep bow, while Regina looks over him at Robin with a Cheshire Cat-like grin.

“Bowing in your own home to our guest, Killian? Well, that is a first,” he muses and Killian shoots up quickly, groaning when his back pops.

“I was just about to run to the store for, what is it again luv? _Chohreezoh_?”

She rolls her eyes at him and huffs, “ _Chorizo_. Here,” she says as she grabs a magnetic list Robin has on his fridge with a pen, and writes it down for him, tearing the page off haphazardly. “It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

Killian winks at her then leaves without another word, his hand coming up to clap Robin on his shoulder. “What was all that about?,” he wonders out loud.

Shrugging her shoulders, she blows out a raspberry, and he grins at her, his hand coming around her waist. “I love that you get along with Killian. There was a moment there when I’d introduced you two that I wondered.” Tilting his head downward, his eyes come up to gaze into hers.

Suddenly, Regina’s hands slide down to his ass, pulling him closer to her and successfully distracting him from forming any coherent thought. Biting her lower lip for a quick second, a devilishly sinful smirk appears on her face as she asks, “How far is the store?”

Robin swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down visibly. Regina catches the movement and licks a line up it, one hand leaving his cheek and coming around the front to cup him through his clothing while her teeth nibble on his neck. Inhaling sharply, Robin picks her up, crashing his lips on hers as he moves them to his bedroom, shutting the door forcefully, where the only sound in the house is Regina’s muffled moan.

 

*.*.*.*

 

Their lovemaking is quick but still passionate and tender. Coming down from their climax, they stare into each other’s eyes. Lying on their sides and looking at one another, Robin’s hand comes up to cradle Regina’s face as her own hold him close to her, running her fingers delicately along his spine and tracing the muscular indents of his back. They were in such a rush that they aren’t even completely naked, and doing this in the middle of the day, of a weekday when they both ought to be at work,then coupled with the very real possibility of being caught by Killian (or John for that matter), only served to fuel their desire. Neither is complaining, choosing to lovingly stroke the other’s body with tender caresses and planting sweet kisses that hold promise for more later, regardless of all the tension surrounding their lives at the moment.

They stay that way for five minutes before they get dressed again, all soft sighs and smiles.

 

*.*.*.*

 

Returning home from the store, Killian is none the wiser though he’s clearly in a better mood. They’d left the room and were in the kitchen mixing eggs into a bowl as Robin chopped a small piece of onion. He makes a note to ask Regina later what happened when he went out to get her things from the car; she must have said something to him to get Killian out of his funk.

As they sit down to eat, Lola silently stares them down hoping that someone will drop a piece of food. When they’re done, Killian offers to wash up while Robin goes into Roland’s room to pack his bag. Regina returns to Robin’s room to grab her laptop, and realizing she’s not wearing the scarf she’d tied around her waist, she kneels on the floor to look for it. Finding it underneath the bed, she reaches for it and her fingers brush against a box. Frowning, she pulls her scarf and tosses it on top of the bed before returning and reaching for the box. Opening the lid, she sees they’re narrow notebooks, all full of sketches. They’re amazing and she can’t stop looking at them. Every piece of work is signed ‘RL’ at the bottom right of the page with a date. Robin’s been working on these for years, some of them had dates on them from over ten yearsago. Sitting back on the floor and crossing her legs before her, she’s astonished with his talent. Why is he only working as an assistant? Just when she’s about to put the notebook in her hand back in the box, one in particular catches her eye. It’s got a red ‘R’ beautifully sketched on the cover, and when she opens it, her jaw falls open and tears cloud her vision.

Every single sketch is of her, mostly wearing pantsuits and pencil skirts, her standard work attire. There’s even a poem on one page written in black ink and the sketch of her is in red charcoal. Barely registering someone’s come into the room, she gasps when Robin’s arms come around her. “I didn’t mean to spy on you,” she says, a tear quickly traveling down her cheek, and Robin’s hand comes up quickly to wipe it away.

“Regina, I’m not mad. I had planned on showing you these some day. I hope you don’t think I’m a creeper now,” he laughs, his eyes full of mirth and crinkled edges.

Licking her lips and shaking her head, Regina says, “I would never think that. These are incredible. Why didn’t you ever show these to Leo?”

Shrugging a shoulder, he says, “I did, once. And he said I had a lot of promise. But…” he doesn’t finish, and Regina nods, licking her lips again and trying to keep it together despite the overwhelming emotion she’s feeling for this man beside her, this caring man whom she’d initially misunderstood and whom she’d almost fired. Hiding her shame, she looks into Robin’s blue eyes as he continues.

“I kept sketching because well, it’s…what I do. I need to—love to—use my hands somehow, as much as possible, to create things. Beautiful things,” he murmurs as his hand threads into her hair and he pulls her closer, planting a slow, deep kiss on her lips before releasing them with a wet pop. “Now, I don’t want to kill the mood, babe, but I do need to get this bag to my son then drop him off for his fun weekend. Would you care to accompany me?”

She cocks an eyebrow at him. “It’s just after noon.”

“Ah yes, but it’s also the Friday before Christmas break,” he smirks. “They’ve early dismissal today.”

She nods and quietly says _right_ , then returns the notebook to the box.

 

*.*.*.*

 

Roland was extremely excited to see Regina with his father and he made her promise that she would wait for him to get back on Sunday so he could spend some time with Lola. “And you too, Regina!,” he grins charmingly. Robin had told her that one of his front teeth was starting to loosen and she smiles at him, thinking about how adorable he’s going to look once it comes out, before the permanent one replaces it.

“I promise, we will both be there waiting for you when you get back,” she tells him, crossing an X over her heart.

They’re standing by her car and she hugs him once more before Robin says he’ll be but a moment and escorts Roland to the front door of his friends’ home. When the door opens, Regina can hear the gleeful shouts of kids inside welcoming Roland, and Robin gives her a wink as he speaks to a young red-haired woman, obviously the Samuel and Deacon’s mother. The woman turns her face back and a man with dark wavy walks up to stand beside her smiling as he shakes Robin’s hand.

It all looks so normal, so domestic, and Regina finds herself wishing her life wasn’t so convoluted. The last several weeks with Robin have made her feel better than she’s felt in years. The couple chat briefly with Robin until she sees him motion toward her, letting them know he’ll be going, and they both nod and smile once more at him and in her direction. The woman waves and Regina finds herself waving back. Robin smiles at her. She can only imagine those sexy crinkles the corners of his eyes make when he smiles since he’s wearing his sunglasses right now. It sends a shiver down her spine, and she looks down hiding her blush. She can always blame it on the heat.

Climbing into the car, Robin backs out of the driveway and honks at the couple in the doorway, waving once more before driving off. “If you’d gotten out of the car, I’d have introduced you,” he says chuckling. “Of course, I don’t blame you for preferring to stay in the air conditioning instead of venturing out into this heat. Ariel and her husband Eric are great people. I’ve let Roland have sleepovers with their twins a few times over the summer and during winter break.” He’s rambling, he realizes, so he stops, suddenly aware that Regina hasn’t said a word.

“What’s on your mind, love?,” he asks. It’s been several minutes and she’s not said a word, so he takes her hand and squeezes her fingers then brings them up to his lips and plants a kiss on them.

“It’s nothing, it’s…” but her voice cracks and Robin notices. They’re driving on Coral Way and at the next opportunity he pulls the car off to the side of the road, ignoring the person honking rudely behind him and the middle finger he gives them as he speeds by Regina’s Mercedes.

“Regina? What is it?,” he whispers only caring that she’s upset, that she’s had a lot to process in such a short amount of time, and wishing there was something—anything—he could do to make her feel better.

Pursing her lips, she smiles bravely, running a finger underneath her eye and swiping away the treacherous tear that almost fell down her cheek.

“It’s nothing,” she sniffles, repeating herself. “I feel like my life is…so complicated right now. And I don’t know what you see in me.”

He takes a few seconds to consider how he’s going to answer, “Hopefully the same thing you see in me: a second chance.” She smiles at him, then caresses his cheek as she tenderly kisses his lips. “That and you’re a very good kisser,” he smirks, happy to see her smile, and this time, it’s genuine. “What did I tell you earlier, hm? That we would figure this all out _together_. I’m not going anywhere, babe. In fact, it would take an act of God to get me to go anywhere. The only way you’re getting rid of me is by telling me you no longer want to be with me.”

He’s firm, resolute, and there isn’t any doubt in Regina’s mind that he means it. She hasn’t said anything, just looks into his eyes, so he goes on. “I can’t believe we’re here this quickly, or that what I’m feeling with you I’ve not felt with anyone before. Not even my wife.” At the mention of his wife, Regina’s head turns sharply and he amends, “Soon to be ex-wife,” he chuckles biting his lip.

She shakes her head at him. “Robin. You’re life was so easy until I stepped into it. Maybe I should…maybe we should—”

But he cuts her off with a fervent kiss, putting all of his emotion into it. He _hopes_ it conveys how much he cares for her, and if it doesn’t, he’ll tell her, he’ll _show_ her every chance he gets. He’ll spend however long he must convincing her she’s worthy of happiness, even if she doesn’t think it’s possible.

The sound of his phone ringing breaks their kiss. “It’s Killian,” he says swiping to answer. Regina can hear the man’s voice clearly over the phone. She can hear him telling Robin that he knows who hired Peter Malcolm, and that the man who was on Regina’s property last night is a photographer named Sidney Glass. He says they should get back to the house as soon as possible, that he’ll explain more when they get there. Robin assures they’re on their way then hangs up. He presses another kiss to Regina’s lips one last time and says, “This isn’t over, babe. We’ll continue this conversation later.” 

 

*.*.*.*

 

Back in his hotel room, Sidney sits at the desk typing his report on a thin laptop. Taking a sip of water, he sighs and looks behind him. The people in the next room are engaged in loud, raunchy sex. The man sounds like he’s spurring his companion on. _“That’s it, baby, ride me, cowgirl. You have amazing tits, baby. Come here, let me suck those gorgoues titties.”_ The sounds of slurping, furniture banging, and a woman’s low moan are heard through the wall before the man shouts out, _“That’s it, baby, ohhh, you love to suck my cock don’t you, yeah, look at you tasting your cum on my cock. Ohhh yeahhh!!! Ohhh yeahhh, yes, yesss!!”_

Rolling his eyes, Sidney grabs his headphones and plugs them into his phone, bringing up a music playlist and his ears are finally engaged in something else. He continues typing away, the sounds of _Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1 in G Major_ making him smile as he works. Piecing together the report is easy enough thanks to his notes and photographs, which he’s arranged on the wall above the desk.

Regina Mills is a beautiful woman. She seems like someone with plenty of class, and he cannot fathom what she’s doing with someone who’s beneath her level. _What, like you’re so much better?_ He chides himself. Shaking his head vigorously, he looks up at the photos again and reminds himself to focus. This is work, and he wants nothing more than to get back home, and more importantly get paid. Malcolm’s expecting this in just a few more hours. He takes a sip of the cold bottle of water next to him before continuing to type. But as he types, he continues to look up, unable to keep his eyes away from Regina’s smiling face. _Just a little more, then you can have your own fun_ , he thinks. _Finish the task._

 

*.*.*.*

 

_SUBJECT: REGINA MILLS_

_LOCATION: 136 LOS PINOS PLACE, CORAL GABLES, FL (RESIDENCE)_

_OBSERVED: THURSDAY, 12/15/16, 05:00 TO FRIDAY, 12/16/16, 05:00_

 

_Subject’s home was observed between the aforementioned dates and times, with the exception being when she was followed to her place of business, located at 1101 Brickell Bay Drive in Miami._

_Subject arrived at her office at 09:07 and was observed for a few hours._

_Subject was on the telephone most of the time and was interrupted twice; once by a light-haired man who locked her office’s door and kissed the subject on the lips, pulling her close to his body._

_Subject responded to the man, her arms holding his body. They remained this way for a couple of minutes before they let each other go. The man straightened his tie and Subject wiped his lipstick stained mouth with a tissue._

_Subject was interrupted the second time by a petite blonde who brought in some files for subject to sign._

_Subject was on the telephone again for a few hours._

_Subject hung up the receiver only to pick it up again several minutes later. This happened six times._

_Subject often looked tired, angered, and somber._

_Subject did not take eat lunch but kept drinking from a bottle of water._

_Subject left her office four times that day in what might reasonably be a restroom break._

_Subject was brought a pastry and Starbucks coffee cup at 15:38, the same petite blonde woman brought it to her._

 

_Conclusion: Surveillance abandoned before the anticipated rush hour commute. I waited at a cafe near the Subject’s home. I drove around Subject’s neighborhood, until Subject arrived alone at 18:42._

_Subject was greeted by a medium sized long-haired dog, breed unknown, possibly a retriever. I took note of thick bushes surrounding the property where I could keep watch with my camera and planned to return after dark._

_At 21:39, I returned to Subject’s house._

_Subject’s vehicle was leaving the property, so instead of setting up, I followed Subject to_ The Bar at Level 25 _in Brickell. She met a blonde woman, not the same person from her office. Subject and second blonde woman sat at the bar and had two drinks._

_Subject seemed distraught and agitated, and appeared to be texting someone on her phone._

_Subject retrieved her vehicle from the valet and I followed her to another residence located at 1932 SW 24 Street._

_Subject tapped on one of the windows of the house. The same man whom Subject had been kissing her in her office answered the door._

_Subject and man went into the house and did not leave until nearly midnight. A second male arrived at the residence just prior to midnight._

_Subject entered her vehicle, accompanied by the light-haired male who entered his own vehicle._

_Subject was followed by the man (and myself) to her residence._

_I arrived at the Subject’s residence approximately six minutes prior to their arrival and hid between several of the aforementioned thick bushes lining the perimeter of Subject’s driveway._

_Subject’s dog barked at me from inside the house, then continued to bark in my direction from behind a gate on the side of the house, which appeared to separate the front lawn from the backyard._

_When Subject’s vehicle arrived, the dog yelped, ran into the house, and was seen again when Subject and man opened the door. The man turned to look in my direction while Subject restrained the dog by the collar._

_Subject and male went into her home and shut the door._

_I on the property until 05:00 Friday, 12/16/16._

 

*.*.*.*

 

Sidney stands, and stretches at the waist but something stops him before hitting send.He ought to proof his report, make sure everything sounds coherent and there are no typos, but he decides to take a break before that.

Walking over to where his bag is atop the dresser, he pulls an envelope with extra photographs from the front pocket. Sifting through them, he breathes deeply. _These_ are not going in his report. He stiffens in his shorts, his eyes sharply focused on Regina’s breasts, on the curve of her spine, and ignoring the man’s bare torso. He’d taken several extra shots of her and the man; having sex in her bathroom. She’d been on her knees sucking the man’s penis while touching herself in the first few photos before moving over to bend down low so the man could fuck her from behind. Tugging his shorts and underwear off in one fluid motion, his hand wraps around his member and his eyes fall closed picturing himself in that shower with Regina. _Be quick, you still have to hit send on that report,_ he thinks to himself. And oh yes, this won’t take very long, not at all. 

 

*.*.*.*

 

“Regina, do you know anyone named Marco Melis Geppes?” Killian asks when they walk into Robin’s home.

Frowning she answers that she doesn’t.

“It appears this man Geppes hired Peter Malcolm to find you, to make sure that you’re you. I am still doing looking into this further, but a quick search on Geppes has him tied to the Italian mob.”

Regina’s eyes go wide. “The mob?,” she asks dumbstruck. Robin’s not faring much better, wondering what the hell would the mob want with Regina. “I don’t know what this has to do with me, or why, or… What else did you find out Killian?”

Sighing, he says, “I’m still working on it, luv. All I know is Geppes travels frequently between Italy, Maryland, and Florida, and he loves the track. I expect to have more soon, and I’ll keep you informed as promised. Now if you’ll both excuse me, I need to get ready for my shift.”

Sitting down on the couch, Regina mulls things over. Robin offers to make some coffee and she nods absentmindedly, calling out a thanks as he walks to his kitchen. Soon the smell of fresh brewed coffee fills the room and Robin returns with a steaming mug prepared just the way she loves it. Humming her thanks, she takes a sip and closes her eyes, momentarily lost in savoring the drink. “Robin, I have to look into my father’s old records, but I’m almost certain that my great-grandparents’ last name was _Melis_.” He frowns, but she goes on. “They changed it to _Mills_ when they arrived in America from Italy in the early 1900’s. It’s possible that this Marco Melis Geppes is a relative of mine I don’t know about.”

Robin ponders this, but then asks, “Right, but why would he hire an investigator to find you? And why would the investigator send a photographer to do the work?”

Shrugging, she says, “I don’t know but I have a feeling we’re going to find out soon. Do you need to do anything right now?”

Shaking his head, he says, “No, why?”

“Because I think we should drive over to my father’s house and do some digging.”

Robin agrees but takes her coffee mug out of her hands as she’s about to take a sip. “What are you doing?,” she asks in irritation, but he says nothing, just walks to the kitchen and opens a cupboard, pulling out two travel mugs and pouring their coffees into each one.

“Just thought we’d take these with us,” he shrugs turning back to face her with a lopsided grin.

Touched by this man’s kindness again, Regina walks right up to him and plants a kiss on his lips, her arms coming his shoulders. “Have I told you lately how much I appreciate you?”

“No, but it’s always _very_ nice to hear. Come on, love. Let’s get going and see what we can find.”

Holding each other’s hands, they leave and lock up behind them, climbing quickly back into Regina’s SUV. Robin’s neighbors from across the street have now put up animatronic reindeer and an animatronic Santa Claus that’s singing _Jingle Bells_. They look at each other and laugh, breaking the tension and lightning their mood, then drive toward Henry Mills’ home. 

Regina’s phone beeps with a text message alert. Pulling it out of her bag, she curses when she reads the message. “Seriously, can this day be any more fucking chaotic?,” she seethes.

“What is it love?”

“It’s a text from Daniel. August woke up a few hours ago. He said it was Zelena Greene-Whitfield. She hired a gang of thugs to beat him up. One of the guys told him it was for following her and her aunt all over Asia.”

Robin looks at her horrified. “The niece of that woman your great uncle’s lover was married to?”

“That’s the one.” She rubs at her temples and Robin rubs the back of her neck simultaneously, trying to do his best to comfort her.

“Just breathe babe. We’re getting closer to finding out the truth. About everything.”

Regina sighs, looking forlorn and feeling envious of normal people doing every daynormal things. Like the parents who are hosting fun sleepovers for kids. Like the family putting up Christmas decorations in their homes. And like the man sitting next to her, driving her to her father’s house. The amazing, incredibly understanding, patient man, the sexy man who confessed earlier he was falling in love with her and she’d been too stunned to say anything, wondering if she could ever even love again after what Leo put her through. But as she ponders what her life without Robin in it would be, it hits her like a ton of bricks. “Hey,” she murmurs, and when he looks over at her, she says in a voice thick with emotion and through that treacherous knot that announces tears are imminent, “I think I might be falling in love with you, too.”

At the next red light, Robin unbuckles his seat belt and reaches over. His arms wrap around her torso and he kisses her deeply, his nose bumping against hers when they break contact then he lets go and sits back, buckling himself in again. They keep driving, never letting go of each other’s hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Several of you had questions after the last chapter ended in a cliffhanger so I hope you're happy with this one and some of your questions were answered. I'm blown away by all the kudos, comments, and love you've expressed for this fic. I want to start writing more fics, and I have some ideas up my sleeve. I have already started writing two, and I have an idea for the third which would fulfill a prompt for OQ Happy Ending Week in July. I've teased the fics on Twitter (you can follow me there if you like, same username and I always follow back). 
> 
> Even though I'm fairly new to the fandom (I only became invested in OQ about two years ago), I still enjoy connecting with other fans who love this couple as well. Aaaand, if you do follow me on Twitter, you'll know I always announce there first when I post new chapters, and it's before AO3 sends the new chapter notification email out.


	15. Chapter 15

Robin and Regina spend a few hours at Henry’s house, going through several boxes Robin found in a small attic above the garage. Regina didn’t know what she was going to do with this house. She’d considered selling it but realized that any monetary gain she made would be tied up in the same financial mess as her bank accounts. She hadn’t told Robin her plan yet, but she had emailed Mal letting her know she had an idea: she wanted to gift the house to Robin and wanted her friend to draft up a proposal contract to ensure it was all legitimate and Gold wouldn’t be able to find a loophole to link it to Leo’s will. The house was entirely paid for and he’d only have to worry about taxes once a year, and utilities and food per month. The one thing that stopped her from blurting outright that she wanted him and Roland to have it was learning, as they’d grown closer, that while Robin was a kind, considerate, loving man and father, he was also proud. Not one to show weakness, Robin refused anyone’s pity about his circumstances after his wife had left him and his son. And though he knew Regina was incredibly wealthy, that didn’t stop him from insisting he pay on their dates no matter where they went. She didn’t want this to seem like it was a handout, but she also knew that her father’s house was literally sitting empty while Robin’s came with a hefty mortgage he couldn’t afford on his own without his friends’ help. Whenever Marian’s actions came up, Regina had seen him visibly tense and say it was over and done with, and there was no point to rehashing a broken past. Regina knew he didn’t appreciate pity, and it was this knowledge that _might_ prevent him from accepting something this big as a mere gift. No matter how much he and his son deserved it, she’d have to approach the matter carefully, perhaps even wait a little longer before letting him know of her plan. As she sifted through the box’s contents mindlessly, she remembered the first time she’d considered her future, one that included Robin and Roland…

* * *

_In the last month, they’d spent some time getting to know each other after hours and through flirty texts. One night, they’d taken Roland out for gelato and when they’d returned home and Robin had given his son a bath, read him a bedtime story—a superheroes one, the boy had insisted, saying he was too old for preschooler tales and wrinkling his nose in disgust at fairytales, making Regina chuckle from the doorway. Robin had turned around, a smile on his face and Roland had sat up in bed insisting she join them. She’d sat next to Roland, her arm around his shoulder as Robin read a Batman comic, emphasizing the “Kapow!” and the “Bam!” by throwing his fist out before him in a mock punch, making both Regina and Roland laugh. When the story ended, Roland pouted and said he wasn’t tired, practically begging if they could please read another one, but Robin firmly reminded him that tomorrow was a school day. The boy had looked dejected and he’d mumbled okay Dad, so Regina promised they’d read another bedtime story together again soon. At that, Roland had looked into her eyes and placed his little hand on her shoulder. “Promise, Regi?,” he’d asked. It was so sweet and sincere, and even though Regina didn’t care for nicknames, she didn’t want to disappoint him, so she smiled, nodded and said, “Yes. I don’t see why not. Good night, Roly-poly.” Placing a kiss on his forehead and running her fingers through his curls, the boy giggled, told her that was a bug’s name, and his father tickled his tummy, telling him that it was, that he was a little bug—his little bug—making Roland squeal with laughter but also insist he was a big boy, nothing little about him. Robin turned the lamp on his nightstand off, and he and Regina left his son’s room, bidding the boy good night and Regina adding that she hopes he has sweet dreams._

_Holding onto her hand, Robin led her back to his bedroom, and shut the door behind them. “Can I interest you in…” he says as his hand comes up and threads through her hair. He never finishes his sentence, his lips now busy kissing her jaw and his teeth gently nibble the sharp line of it before running the tip of his tongue along the length he’d just grazed. Letting out a ragged breath, her hands squeeze his biceps as her arms come up around his back and she presses as close to him as she can. Lips split with a wet pop for just a second giving them time to take a needed breath before they’re devouring one another again. Robin drops a hand down to cup her ass, pulling her flush against him so she can feel his stiffening cock between her thighs. Though he loves when she wears those tight skirts, there’s something to be said for her pantsuits. After work this afternoon, Regina had promptly donned her blazer, depositing it in the backseat of her car. The silky, shimmery silver blouse she was wearing had a keyhole that bared a peep of each shoulder and Robin’s fingers went into those holes now, delicately tracing patterns on her skin while they kissed. Placing her palms on his chest, she pushes him slightly and smirking asks, “Were you going to offer me a beverage or…maybe something else?”_

_“I thought that was obvious, babe. But,” he says huskily, moving them back toward his bed, “if you’re going to insist on having something to drink then we’ll have to stop doing this. And I don’t believe either of us wants to stop doing this, do we?” His fingers have been unbuttoning her blouse as he’s been talking, hands coasting up stopping only to give each breast a firm squeeze, thumbs running across the cups feeling her nipples, applying just enough pressure to make the friction pleasurable and anticipatory before rising to cup her shoulders and pushing the silky material off. Regina looks down as it slips to the floor then back at Robin. His eyes are darker, making her lick her lips. “So…did you want something?,” he smirks. Shaking her head, her eyes fall closed as their lips meet again, deepening the kiss. Robin’s hands fall to her trousers and he deftly undoes the button then slowly lowers the zipper until they too fall to the ground. Holding onto him for support, Regina steps out her discarded pants, still wearing her heels, which she’s loathe to remove because they put her almost at his height without having to angle her head. Robin’s gaze falls down her body appreciatively. “You are so bloody gorgeous,” he rasps, his hand slipping down, down and into the skimpy black lace panty she’s wearing, groaning when he discovers how wet she is. His fingers skim her slick folds, bringing up the wetness to rub her clit. “Sit and lie back babe,” he says, and she complies, leaning on her elbows watching as Robin kneels before her, divesting her of her panties, then spreading her thighs apart gently with his hands. “I can’t wait to taste you again,” he breathes out softly, causing the skin along her abdomen to erupt in goosebumps. “Always so responsive.” His fingers lightly skim her abdomen, going lower and lower until one dips down, sinking into her wetness again. Leaning forward, his tongue peeks out and his hooded eyes look at her once more before his gaze returns to watch where he’s pleasuring her. “You’re soaked darling._

_Regina’s arms tremble slightly. Her mouth falls open on a quiet moan, her eyes also hooded with desire. She brings a hand to her lips to remind herself that his son is in the house._

_They’d started sneaking in their ‘alone time’ one night a week, after their first time together. So far luck had been on their side. They hadn’t been caught by Roland or Robin’s roommates, but they did somehow manage to keep themselves as quiet as they could. Interestingly, having to do so only heightened their desire during those times they knew they’d be completely alone and uninterrupted, and it was then they’d get as rowdy as they wanted without reservation._

_Robin wastes no time setting up a rhythm. His tongue and lips suck and lick her hardened nub while a slick finger pumps in and almost entirely out of her. When he finds her spot, her breathing becomes noticeably rougher, so he inserts a second finger. Adding just the right amount of pressure, he drags both fingers in and out slowly. “Go deeper, please,” she whispers, her head falling back, his fingers thrusting as deeply as he can without hurting her. His lips and tongue continue to work her clit, kissing and sucking gently. “Mmm-hmmm. Just like that. You’re so…mmmhh….so good at that…unhhh…” He continues his ministrations, and Regina is so focused on staying quiet that it’s distracting her from letting go. Robin senses it and, as much as he loves going down on her, he knows he’s going to have to give her more so she can get her off. Without getting too loud, of course. And most unfortunately for him, since he loves hearing her come unhinged._

_Placing one last suckling kiss on her clit, she bucks and frowns at him. When he stands to quickly rid himself of his clothing, Regina smiles and kicks off her heels, a soft thump heard when they hit the floor. Moving over her he captures her lips, tracing the seam with his tongue. She opens willingly, moaning at the taste of herself on him. Robin grinds his erection into her hips, poking her upper thigh. He wants her so bad, and she’d been so close. They waste no time getting down to business. Adjusting herself on his bed, her legs open wide to give him access so he can slip in easily. They lock eyes when she feels his tip, not breaking contact when he starts to move, slowly entering her inch by delicious inch. When he’s buried to the hilt, he stills, letting her adjust to his intrusion. It doesn’t take long because she’s already gloriously drenched with arousal; he can feel the wet heat all over him. Robin props himself up on his forearms resting on either side of Regina’s head. “You’re so wet, so gorgeous like this,” he murmurs. Lifting her head to kiss him, her arms wrap underneath his, as hands caress his muscles before planting tender kisses on them. She moves her head once more, this time to kiss his shoulders and clavicle as her hands press on his spine, trying to get closer._

_“Move faster, deeper,” she says huskily. Their lips lock in a sloppy kiss as Robin’s hips begin to hammer deliberately against hers, slowly at first then picking up the pace before pounding into her in earnest, their breaths becoming shallower. He knows she can’t come like this, knows she needs friction, so as incredible as her walls feel around him, he slows down causing her to stop kissing him and pulling back with a frown paired with furrowed brows._

_Before she can say anything, he flips them over in one quick motion, Regina now on top, straddling him. She gets the idea and sits up. Her hands rest on his chest for purchase and she starts moving as Robin’s thumb finds her clit and begins to rub delicious tight circles. “This is better, yeah?,” he rasps, and yes, yes it is much better she thinks but doesn’t say it out loud, deciding it’s better to just show him. Reaching behind herself while continuing to move along his length, she unclasps her bra and tosses it aside, her hands coming up to touch her bared breasts. When Robin grunts a little louder than they ought to, she gives him a wanton smile and pinches her nipples. Her eyes remain locked on his, as the pinches turn into rolls, the stiff peaks hardening even more between her fingers. Robin watches her giving them these firm little twists, and her head falls back, mouth open in a silent scream, the pleasure making it’s way down, that familiar, flaming heat reaching down to her core, making her move faster. With both hands on her hips, he helps her slide to and fro on his length._

_“I need, God, Robin…I need more, I need, ahhh…ahhhhhh…..” She doesn’t get to finish her sentence because he already knows. His thumb finds her clit again, expertly rubbing the same tight circles he knows she loves, knows will make her come, and moves around her bundle before he alternates the motion, giving her clit a few feather-light pinches between his thumb and index finger, very gently rolling it. The new sensations push her over the edge, and she collapses on top of him, panting and whimpering, her face in the crook of his neck. He holds her closer to him, and presses up into her as his thrusts gain speed. Her walls are quivering around him, he can feel the pulsing of her climax, and after several more deep plunges into her hot core, he pants his own release hoarsely as their sweat-slicked bodies continue to rub sensually against one other._

_As their breathing returns to normal, Regina lifts herself up and off him, ignoring the wetness that seeps out of her and lies on her side, elbow propped up, watching him. She never knows what to say when they’ve finished being intimate, but Robin turns to face her, his eyes full of mirth. “That was the best ‘something else’ I’ve ever had,” he jokes, and she smirks, slapping his shoulder playfully._

_“Do you think we were too loud?”_

_“No, I don’t think so. Roland’s out for the count by now I’m sure.”_

_They lie in his bed peacefully, settling their heated bodies while their heartbeats slow down. When the air conditioning kicks in, Regina reaches down for the cashmere throw Robin keeps at the foot of the bed, something he’d gotten for expressly for her since she tended to get cold sometimes. She opens the blanket, letting it fall over her body, as she snuggles into the pillows and closes her eyes, announcing after a deep breath, “I could fall asleep right now.”_

_He doesn’t hesitate to respond. “Then why don’t you stay? I’ve offered to cook you breakfast here before, yet you’ve always turned me down. Chivalry’s not dead but it appears feminism is trying to kill it.” Regina scoffs indignantly at him, making him chuckle. “You know I’m only joking,” he promises, planting a kiss on her bare shoulder. “But you know, you can stay. Any time you’d like. I rather enjoy having you here, and by ‘here’ I don’t just mean my bed, but my home. In my life. You’re wonderful, Regina. With me. With Roland.”_

_Her eyes are suddenly glassy with unshed tears and she can feel the treacherous lump forming in her throat announcing a sob-fest is imminent, so before she says anything, she takes several deep breaths to center herself, calm her emotions because she’s not sure she’s ready to fold. Not yet anyway._

_“What is it?” Robin whispers, scooting over to get as close to her as possible. His fingers come up to caress her cheek and she licks her lips, shaking her head and insisting it’s nothing, that she’s just a little tired and will be going home soon. His hand drops to the mattress and he frowns, so she reminds him Lola’s home alone, so he nods silently in understanding._

_Sighing she says, “I’m not running away, Robin. I just… I need time to process this, okay? And not because it wasn’t wonderful, because you’re pretty damn wonderful too. And sexy. And hard to resist.”_

_With this new admission, his lips perk up into a lopsided grin. “Sexy and hard to resist, eh? I do believe those are the best compliments I’ve ever received in my life.”_

_She scoffs again and rolls her eyes, then leans over to kiss his lips. Planting several loud smacks on them then smiling, she stands from the bed and leans over to collect her discarded underwear and clothing. As she gets dressed, she can sense he wants to say something so she asks him what’s on his mind. His expression changes swiftly and his eyes crinkle at the corners (she finds this in particular incredibly sexy, incredibly hard to resist, but she has to get home so resist she must). “Everything’s fine babe. Just wishing you’d stay, but I understand why you must go. Perhaps one day, though, you will.”_

_Coming around to his side, she sits next to him and runs a hand across his chest, her fingers playing with the soft, short hairs. “Perhaps,” she echoes._

_She never imagined she could have something like this, but if she could, if this were possible and if this could ever turn into more, Regina is absolutely certain in this moment that this is exactly how she would want her future to look like: sharing her life with Robin and Roland._

* * *

Robin places another banker box labeled “Records” in front of her, startling her out of her memory. “You alright?”

“Yes. And thanks for doing this with me.”

“Of course. There’s no where else I’d rather be right now.” He drops a kiss on her head then sits in the chair across from her. They’ve been here for almost three hours, going through boxes full of dusty records, receipts, and miscellaneous paperwork Henry Mills had a penchant for keeping. As her fingers quickly sort through the pages, she gasps when a silverfish nears her finger and she quickly blows it off the paper. So far, their search had led nowhere, and right when she’s about to call it a day (she’s frustrated, tired and hungry), Robin says, “Well, this is interesting.”

“What?” She comes over to stand by him and sees he’s got a photo envelope in his hands labeled _La Mia Famiglia_ , written in her father’s handwriting. The photographs inside are a jumbled mess of old black and white pictures distressed with age spots and faded edges—a sharp contrast to modern photography. Robin flips one over and reads aloud, “Salvatore and Antonia, 1904, Italy. These your grandparents?”

Regina hums, “Yes, great-great grandparents. They emigrated to Pittsburgh. If I remember my father’s stories about them, they had three boys and a little girl.” She bites her lip lost in thought. “Anthony, my great-uncle from Houston, Henry, Sal Jr., and Sofia. Those were the kids.”

“Could Geppes be related to any of them, perhaps a descendant of Sofia’s?”

“Uh-uh, no. My father told me she died when she was a small child. Tuberculosis. But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t be related to either Henry or Sal Jr. And I know Anthony didn’t have any kids.”

Regina’s stomach chooses that moment to grumble loudly, making them laugh and Robin suggests they pick up something to eat. Closing the last bank box they’d opened, they return the pack of photographs, resting them on top of the other papers and leave Henry Mills’ home.

 

*.*.*.*

 

They decide on take out. Sitting on a bench by the register while waiting for their dinner to be brought out, Robin gets a call from Roland, who says he forgot to pack the charger for his iPad and asks if he can bring it to him. “Of course. Where did you leave it?”

“Inside my drawer, Dad, the top one. I put it with my socks when I charged it yesterday,” he says confidently. He’s proud his son is starting to put things away responsibly.

Robin nods even though his son can’t see him. “I know just where Roland. I’m picking up dinner right now, but I’ll stop at home first to get it then bring it to you, alright?”

“Thanks Dad. What’cha eating?”

“Sushi,” he winks at Regina and she smiles, biting back a laugh when she hears Roland exclaim, “ _Ewwww!_ ”

“Right then, I’ll see you in a bit, yeah?”

“Dad, wait! Is Regina with you?”

Clearing his throat, Robin says, “Yes, why?”

“Can you put her on for a second? Please? I want to say hi.”

Robin hands her the phone and she holds it up to her ear with a cheery, “Hey Roly, how’s the party, are you having fun?”

“Yup, my friends’ mom and dad made hot dogs on the grill. They were delicious!”

“Oh yeah?! And how many did you eat?,” she wonders smiling at Robin and mouthing, _he’s so cute!_

It warms his heart that she’s so sweet with his son. Regina may not want kids of her own, but she definitely has more motherly instincts than she gave herself credit for. Loads more than Roland's own mother, certainly.

They hang up and Regina hands him back his phone. “Something tells me he was hoping you’d say you were picking up a _Big Man’s Special_ pizza and you crushed his dreams by admitting it was sushi,” she quips bumping his shoulder.

“Yes well, I’m positive he’ll be fine. If I know my son, he’s been eating all sorts of goodies this evening I don’t always allow at home,” Robin says, using air quotes with the word _goodies_. Just then the hostess approaches them with a big smile, their bagged food in her hands. “Ah, here we are, thank you so much!” He smiles brightly at her, then extends his hand for Regina to takes “Shall we?”

She stands and nods. “We shall.”

 

*.*.*.*

 

Lola’s whines can be heard from inside Robin’s house when they arrive. She’s pawing and sniffing excitedly at the door the closer they get. “I’m here, baby,” Regina calls out to her, making the dog whine louder and Robin laughs.

“I understand her excitement. I can’t say I don’t feel the same when I look into your eyes,” he says quietly, kissing her cheek as his key turns the lock. Lola rushes out to greet them, tail wagging happily as Regina bends to kiss her snout and pet her head asking if she’s been a good girl.

John comes out of his room still dressed in his postal worker uniform but barefoot. “Hey Robin, Regina. I let her out a bit ago. She’s the sweetest dog,” he smiles at Regina who returns his smile and thanks him.

Robin puts the bag of food down on the kitchen counter then turns to Regina and says, “I’ve got to get Roland’s charger to him. I’ll be gone twenty minutes tops. You can start eating if you’re hungry.”

“No, it’s alright, I’ll wait for you. I’ll just feed Lola then set the table up for us.” Turning to his friend, she says, “John, I’m sorry. We didn’t know you were home but we’d be more than happy to share our dinner with you.”

“That’s very nice, but no thank you. Trina and I have dinner plans then we’re going to the movies. But I’m more than happy to keep you company until Robin gets back. Then I’ll make myself scarce,” he winks, making her laugh.

“Thanks mate,” Robin says gratefully. “I’ll be as quick as a fox,” he says to Regina, quickly pecking her lips before walking into Roland’s room to retrieve the charger. They hear the door close behind him, the engine of his car revving to life before he drives away.

“Care for a beer, Regina?”

She normally doesn’t drink beer, but after the crazy day she’s had, she feels like she’s earned one, so she nods gratefully at John. He pulls a frosted Pilsner glass from the freezer then opens a bottle of Blue Moon and expertly tips it into the glass, stopping just before the foam reaches the edge then handing it to her. “Thank you,” she says taking the beer from him. She sips tentatively at first, then hums in appreciation.

“Have a seat if you like,” John offers looking to the table and pulling a chair out for himself. She sits next to him, feeling relaxed. This day may have been a doozy, but she’s tired and knows she’ll sleep like the dead tonight once her mind shuts off.

“Regina,” John starts and she knows, she just _knows_ , he’s going to have _the talk_ with her—the one any concerned friend has with the new boyfriend or girlfriend of their best friend. She smiles pleasantly, her mind briefly recalling that when she’d started dating Leo, Mal had put him through an interrogation regarding his intentions. She muses that she and Robin’s friends are probably quite similar, though she doubts Mal and John would ever become mutual friends.

“John, before you start, let me just say this. I _know_ I was awful to Robin in the past, and I can’t take my actions back. I regret having been so hard on him. But he knows I’m making up for my mistakes.”

Tilting his head sideways, he says, “Well, that’s not exactly where I was going, but I’m happy to hear it nonetheless.” He pauses to take a sip of his beer and Regina mimics him, sipping her own. “Robin would skin me alive if he knew I was telling you this but it’s something I think you should know, if you don’t already. He had a really rough time when Marian left him and Roland. Really rough. He once put his fist through a wall in the garage. Now I know this is none of your business, but I also went through a difficult divorce, for similar reasons. My wife and I had been married for four years and I’d been happy. Until I caught her in bed with someone else—one of her best friends. For so long I was convinced it was me, that I’d driven her to do it. Those were some of the darkest moments of my life.”

Regina doesn’t know what to say, she’s barely blinked all this time, so she reaches out and places her hand on his arm, while he takes another swig of his beer. “You don’t have to go on if you don’t feel comfortable telling me,” she says quietly, but the man clicks his tongue.

“No, it’s not that. It’s… Robin. He saved my life. I’d been about to commit suicide and he stopped me from going through with it. God,” he says, looking up at the ceiling. “I was a mess. I didn’t think life would get better after that, but…he convinced me to get help and at his urging, I started seeing a psychiatrist. Dr. Hopper. Great man. Helped me work through the shit that had been clouding my vision. Got me to change my perception about what had happened, to stop blaming myself. But one of the best things Dr. Hopper did for me was he got me to believe in second chances again. And he was fucking right because,” his voice cracks and he pauses to gulp down another swig of beer as Regina’s hand squeezes his thick forearm. “Cause now I’m with Trina . She’s the best thing that’s happened to me in a very long time. And I wouldn’t be with her if it weren’t for Robin.”

Licking her lips, Regina nods in understanding, and she doesn’t want to sound rude but she’s genuinely curious. “Why are you telling me this?”

Sniffing and wiping one tear from his eye with a thick thumb, he says, “Before Robin punched that wall, he’d started drinking. And when that happened, when he damaged his home and hurt himself in the process, I took him to see Dr. Hopper, against his will. Robin will always insist he’s fine, but I know him. I know he’s still holding onto some pain, pain he needs to let go of. Anyhow, I don’t know how much of this he’s told you,” he says tentatively and when Regina looks solemnly at him, he utters a quiet _Shit._

“No. Don’t beat yourself up. I’m sure Robin would have told me this himself at some point. I won’t tell him you told me, and when he brings it up, it’ll be as if I’m hearing the news for the first time.” A part of her doesn’t like this because it feels like lies, but she nods at John nonetheless, knowing he only had good intentions in telling her.

“He felt worthless. Killian and I were afraid he’d try to take his own life. As someone who’d gone down that road before, I recognized the signs. We were damned if we were gonna let him go. He’s a good man, good friend, father. But even that stopped mattering. There were a few months there when he’d get home from work and not want to speak to anyone, not even Roland. He’d just change out of his work clothes into sweats and head into the man cave to lift weights, run, whatever. When Robin gets into that zone, there’s no getting through to him. It was tough because how were we supposed to explain to Roland that his dad’s not only having issues at work, his mom left to live her life, carefree as can be?”

Horrible, she feels just horrible. She knows what John’s talking about because she knows how deeply her sharp words cut into Robin many times before they became whatever they are today, and she lowers her head in shame. She’d felt pangs of guilt listening to John, regret at the memory of every time she mistreated him, every time she sneered at him, every time she threw an insulting remark his way. She remembers how his jaw would clench in anger, which she recognizes now, and how he’d always bite his tongue until that afternoon when he’d had it. She remembers it well.

She’d walked in on a conversation between him and Trina and immediately assumed he’d been sleeping with her. When she’d asked him about it, she remembers the hurt, accusatory tone she took, he’d ignored it and instead firmly replied that he was _not_ and that it was none of her business. It was the first time she’d felt hot and bothered by Robin Locksley, and she knew that continuing to sleep with Andy the bartender wasn’t going to cut it for her any longer. Though she’d tried to act coy, to play it cool insisting they just be friends, in the end, Regina knew she wanted Robin. Getting to know him, easing up on him at work, not to mention reading through all of his previous evaluations culminated in her reexamining her feelings and, as of today, admitting them not only to herself but to him.

“I’m so sorry for hurting Robin and consequently Roland, who’s innocent and so undeserving of that. But I promise you, John, I won’t hurt either of them. You have my word,” she vows solemnly.

 

*.*.*.*

When Robin gets back, Regina is sitting comfortably on the couch watching television with Lola laying beside her. She’s absentmindedly stroking the dog’s head and she smiles at him. His eyes don’t miss the near-empty glass of beer on the coffee table in front of her. “Thanks for waiting for me, babe. Shall we eat?”

She hums in agreement and stands, turning off the TV as Lola looks at them unmoving. “She’s quite comfortable, but I’m sure she’ll saunter into the kitchen once she smells food,” Regina laughs.

John comes out of his room before they’ve finished. Robin jokes that he smells like he doused his body using only cologne instead of soap and water, making the burly man roll his eyes. “I’ll have you know Trina loves when I wear cologne, you git,” he says. “Anyway, I’ll catch you two lovebirds later.” Robin throws a crumpled napkin at his retreating form, barely touching his back but John doesn’t notice it.

“So how was Roland?,” she asks, standing and collecting the dishes before rinsing them off and placing each into the dishwasher.

“Fine. Asked if you and Lola would still be here Sunday when he got back. Oi, you don’t have to do this babe, I’ve got it. You’re my guest, sit down.” But she shushes him, insisting she’s happy to help since he bought her dinner _and_ is helping with finding out who Marco Geppes is.

Then she bumps her hips against his playfully and says, “Well, since you have given me several mind-blowing orgasms in the last 24 hours, I’d say we’re even, wouldn’t you?”

“Mm-hmm, though I think _I_ may need to up my orgasm game,” he asks, hands coming up to rest on her waist as he backs her up against the counter, kissing her. “But first, I think we could use another shower. Would you like that?” Regina doesn’t reply, only kisses him once more then walks out of the kitchen, calling out, “Are you coming?”

He chuckles before calling back, “Is that a rhetorical question?”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very big thank you to Jess (aka: @babylawyer13 on Twitter) who beta'd this chapter like a champ.

The drive to Orlando was boring and uneventful. It being nearly Christmas, most people had either already arrived at their destination or wouldn’t be en route until later in the week. Preferring audiobooks to listening to the radio, Sidney drives along the flat highway and two and a half hours into his drive, he stops to use the bathroom and pick up a quick bite to eat. He’d checked in with Malcolm that morning before leaving and the man had sounded bored. Not letting it phase him in the least, he’d hung up the phone, rolling his eyes. He wasn’t sure why Malcolm kept calling him for random jobs since he didn’t seem to like him much, but Sidney was in no position to complain or question. As long as he got his paycheck at the end of the job, he was happy.

His mind drifted back to the photographs he took of Regina the other night. What he wouldn’t have given to have been in his place. Though he didn’t intend for it to happen, his penis stirs in his pants as his arousal grows. Checking his mirrors, he switches over to the right lane and slows down in speed. He lowers his zipper and pulls his penis out to fondle it. He doesn’t even realize that a Greyhound bus is approaching to his left, his memories caught up in what he saw through the camera lens a couple nights ago. Engrossed in himself and his own pleasure, the silence inside his car is broken when he hears hollering on his left. Sidney looks up to see he’s being watched by a bunch of stunned passengers of all ages, but the ones who are screaming are combined: older ladies undoubtedly in shock and several teenaged boys who can’t be older than 16 or 17 years old. He slows down and pulls to the side of the road, the giant bus continuing to drive onward, soon becoming a tiny speck. Returning his hand to his pants, he begins stroking himself and throwing his head back, eyes closed and moaning, he doesn’t see the state trooper that’s pulled up behind his sedan. He’s surprised not a moment later, startled from his fantasy by the tapping on the window.

He gets away with it—almost. Sidney scowls as he turns his indicator on and starts accelerating to get back on the highway, a freshly written ticket in the amount of $750 facing up on the passenger seat beside him. If he’s honest with himself, he’s grateful it wasn’t much worse and he wasn’t arrested. He suspects Malcolm wouldn’t have appreciated being called from jail, and would have found the reason why less than amusing.

These are the thoughts preoccupying the rest of his journey to Central Florida, and because of that, he’s not entirely prepared for the sight that greets him when he enters Malcolm’s office mid-day Saturday. 

A group of five men wearing business suits stand in Malcolm’s office, two of them are by the front door, seemingly guarding it, a third man stands before Malcolm’s window, his back facing them, and the other two are beside a filing cabinet. Upon further examination, Sidney can see all the men are armed, the grip of their guns visible in their holsters. Before he can question anything, Malcolm addresses him. “Glass, have a seat.” The man is hard to read and Sidney wonders whether or not to comply, but when one of the men takes a step in his direction, he decides it’s best to comply, feeling the bile rise in his throat as his heart rate speeds up.

“Mr. Malcolm, I’ve brought back hardcopies of my report and the photographs you’ve requested. Might I ask why I’m being kept from leaving?”

Malcolm doesn’t answer him. Instead he looks over at the man standing by the window, who’s isn’t facing them. “Sir?” Malcolm asks, and the man turns to face them. He’s older, in his sixties. The top of his head is bald and he’s got gray hair on the sides, along with a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. 

Ignoring Malcolm, the man speaks to one of the others. “Search him,” he says, his eyes on Sidney.

Feeling indignant but also scared, Sidney purses his lips. “What’s this about?”

One of the men who looked to be in his late fifties, approached him, his eyes narrowing at Sidney, and just when Sidney opened his mouth to protest, the man opened his coat so everyone could see the gun in the holster at his hip. Without another word and full compliance, he allowed the man to pat him down.

“He’s clean, boss,” the man said looking over at the leader.

“Search his bag, too,” the other man replied. At this, Sidney shook his head, and the man looked directly at him, his eyes serious and menacing. “Search it,” he repeated.

Soon enough, the photographs Sidney had no intention of sharing publicly, the ones he’d taken and kept expressly for himself, were now in the possession of these unknown goons, these morons with their guns, threatening stances, and angered looks. ‘ _Who the fuck are these people?,’_ he wondered. “Well, well, well,” the deep voice boomed, a sardonic smile on his face.

The leader firmly ordered, “Burn them. Do it now.”

Malcolm stood off to one side, his eyes pleading with Sidney to not do anything stupid. To his credit, Sidney wasn’t dumb enough to try though he remained indignant at being treated this way and without an explanation as to why. Did that bitch know after all? Was she behind all this?

The man who’d searched him took a lighter out of one pocket and lit the corner of the photos on fire and tossed them in the metal trash can by Malcolm’s desk. He pushed it further away with his foot, and before Malcolm warned of the fire sprinklers above them, the leader spoke again and said, “Moe, take it outside. Let it burn out there then return it to Mr. Malcolm.”

Stepping toward Sidney, he got very close to his face, and in a deadly quiet voice said, “You’re going to leave here and if you want Mr. Malcolm to hire you for any future assignments, you’re going to stay quiet about this little meeting. You won’t call the cops. You won’t speak about this to anyone. And most importantly, you’re never going to get near Regina Mills-Blanchard ever again, you fucking sick bastard.” Just as he was about to turn away from him, he eyed the two thugs that had been standing by the door and one of them closed the distance between them in a few steps and punched Sidney in the jaw. Cupping his now bloodied jaw, Sidney nodded once in understanding, inhaling a sharp breath as he did so.

“Bill?”

One of the larger men that had been standing off to one side with his arms crossed before him, stepped forward and said, “Yes boss?”

“Please see that Mr. Glass returns to his home,” he said.

“I’m capable of seeing myself home,” Sidney began to argue and everyone turned to look at him, Malcolm shaking his head.

Bill stood before him and said, “Mr. Glass, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. You choose.” He swallowed, staring Sidney down.

Pursing his lips and nostrils flaring with a sharp inhale of breath, Sidney turned toward the door where the two beefy men, no doubt also armed, stood aside to let him and Bill exit the office.

The walk to the car was quiet, and when Sidney disarmed his vehicle, Bill shook his head and gestured to a black Lincoln Towncar. “We’re going in this one,” he said.

“What am I supposed to do with my car? I can’t leave it here,” Sidney argued.

Without batting an eye, Bill said, “We both know that’s a rental car. You were planning on dropping it off before taking an Uber home. Cut the shit and get in the Lincoln.”

Sighing defeat, but also swallowing his discomfort, Sidney complied again, getting into the backseat of the Lincoln with Bill behind him. He gave the driver directions to Sidney’s apartment.

 

*.*.*.*

 

They’d spent most of Saturday looking through boxes at Henry’s house again searching through paperwork same as the day before. They’d gotten nowhere with the search and Regina was frustrated. Robin had convinced her to relax for the evening so they’d watched a funny movie ( _It’ll make you feel better about today, babe,_ he’d insisted) and were now curled up on his couch watching television, with Lola lying nearly still next to Robin, nearly asleep and enjoying him giving her a tummy rub. “Look at that, you’ve won her over,” Regina said laughing.

“Have I? Hmm. The real question, however, is: have I won _you_ over?” He flashed her a dimpled smile, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Shaking her head, she asked, “Since when do you need validation?”

Robin loved this about her. He enjoyed their banter and how playful and flirtatious she could be. He never tired of it, never believed he would. It kept him on his toes and he enjoyed it immensely.

“I don’t,” he shrugged, “but it’s always nice to hear it.”

“Come on. We should get to bed,” she said standing from the couch, laughing when he wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively. “To sleep, down boy,” she clarifies, smirking. “Someone’s insatiable.”

“Guilty and not sorry,” he said, standing to capture her lips in a gentle, sweet kiss, his fingers tangling in her hair as he held her close.

The news came on as they kissed one another’s lips, cheeks, and jaws, and although she’d accused him of being insatiable, she was just the same when it came to him apparently. They were almost too distracted until the reporter’s words broke them apart and they turned their attention to the television once more, Regina’s mouth falling open in shock.

“In local news tonight,” the reporter was saying, “Miami attorney, Spencer Gold, was found in an alley just off South River Drive, badly beaten and nearly unconscious. The police suspect foul play but have not found witnesses yet. Mr. Gold was transported by helicopter to Mount Sinai Hospital earlier in the evening. The hospital refused to comment, but Rick Perez is on the scene waiting to hear from his wife, Belle Gold. Rick, have you seen Mrs. Gold yet? Have you been able to speak with her?”

A second reporter’s image fills the screen with a banner across the bottom reading _Spencer Gold, Esq. hospitalized after assault_. “Hello Dan. I’ve been waiting for a couple of hours for Mrs. Gold here at Mount Sinai Hospital in Miami Beach, hoping I might speak with her. I’ve already spoken to the police earlier at the scene of the crime and they have no suspects yet,” he says, his arm holding a microphone and his other hand comes up to his ear. “Dan, I’ve just received confirmation that Mrs. Gold is making her way outside the hospital.”

A distraught red-headed woman exits the double doors of the hospital. She looks like she’d been crying for hours, her face pale and devoid of makeup. The reporter approaches her, microphone in hand. “Mrs. Gold, Rick Perez with Channel 7 News. Do you have any idea who might’ve hurt your husband? Did he come out of his coma while you were with him? What did the doctors say? Can you tell us anything?”

A thin young man with a military haircut steps into the frame holding onto Mrs. Gold.

“What the actual fuck?,” Robin says, Regina looking over at him.

“What is it?”

“I know that man. It’s Will,” he says.

The man, Will, is holding Mrs. Gold by her waist and leading her away from the reporter shoving his microphone in her face. “Oi, get that bloody thing out of here before I break your nose, you mother-fu- _BLEEP_ -coc- _BLEEP_ -suck- _BLEEP_!” His hand covers the camera lens and his muffled expletives are heard fading into the distance as he leads the woman away from the hospital and the news team.

Turning the television off after the broadcast, Regina turns to Robin. “Who’s Will and how do you know him?”

 

*.*.*.*

 

“A thief?!” Regina asks incredulous. They’d gone to the man cave, where he’d taken out two tumblers and poured them each two fingers of whiskey.

“From my youth, yes. Will Scarlet was my friend back in England. Some would even go as far as to call us brothers,” Robin explains, his fingers holding his tumbler. “He and I go back quite a bit.”

Robin pulls a barstool out and sits down on it, gesturing to Regina to sit next to him, as he pushes one of the tumblers in front of her.

“Love, there’re some things about me I haven’t yet told you,” he starts, stretching his neck down, a hand comes up as he rubs at it. “I haven’t spoken about this in years.”

Sensing it’s hard for him to talk, Regina touches his bicep, murmuring they can always talk about it later, but Robin shakes his head and sighs. Before he opens his mouth again, he downs the two fingers of whiskey he’d served himself, the pours a second one.

“Just before my twelfth birthday, my father left my mother.”

Clicking her tongue, her hand slides up around his shoulders and she pulls nearer to him, one of her hands caresses his shoulder. Robin takes another sip of whiskey. “I had no idea what had been happening, and it was a few years before I pieced the story together. Suddenly Mum and I found ourselves alone and she had to find herself a job to support us. My father had paid for the flat, but we still had to make ends meet with food and utilities, and I’d never been denied very much in my life. Don’t get me wrong; we were never wealthy. Not like you,” he says then glances sideways at her. “But we were comfortable and I thought my parents were happy. I was wrong.”

It’s hard for him, she can tell. Part of her wants to put an end to this conversation but the fact remains that now his friend is somehow involved with Gold, and Gold having been assaulted is peculiar though, she wonders, with his disposition it’s not unlikely that he hadn’t had a slew of enemies just waiting to pounce. Robin’s voice interrupts her thoughts.

“Once Mum was the sole provider, there were things I couldn’t just have when I asked. I had to start wearing hand-me-down clothing and shoes. I asked her if we were poor and why had my father gone. Whenever I’d ask, she’d just tear up. Wouldn’t answer me. I felt frustrated and angry because life as I knew it had ended and I didn’t know why, couldn’t understand why. Dad came around at first, but even that stopped because I’d throw a right fit whenever he said he was leaving.” He stops talking to take another sip of whiskey, closing his eyes as the liquid makes it’s way down to his belly. Regina is watching him, watching how his Adam’s apple bobs, running her fingers soothingly on his shoulder then bringing her hand back to run through his hair as Robin’s eyes remain closed, his head tipping back, sighing with pleasure.

Pursing his lips, he takes another deep breath and keeps going. “I began acting out, not just at home, but at school. I’d get into fist fights, disrespect instructors, pick on just about anyone. Naturally there were consequences, and I got into loads of trouble. But no matter how often my mother begged, pleaded with me to stop, I wouldn’t. I was so angry, at everyone. I felt like they’d all treated me as if I were a child, one who didn’t deserve to know the truth.”

Robin finishes his second whiskey, and pours himself a third. “You see, I looked up to my father a great deal. In my eyes, he could do no wrong.”

Continuing the smoothing circular motions on his back, then alternating it with gentle scratches on the back of his head with her fingernails, she asks, “Do you know why your father left?”

His expression hardens at this, and she almost regrets asking. She’s just about to say he doesn’t have to tell her if he doesn’t want to, but he starts to speak again. “My father actually left Mum for another, younger, woman. And you know, he didn’t have the nerve to tell me. The only reason I found out was because I cut classes one afternoon, and I followed him. In the middle of the workday, Dad always used to come home for lunch. He’d never take a packed lunch and he refused to spend money when there was perfectly good food to be had at home. All my life, he did this, so naturally, I knew he’d go somewhere for lunch and I was determined to find out where.”

Her hand is now on his thigh, and she gives it a squeeze, whispering that he doesn’t have to go on if he finds it too difficult. He doesn’t answer, only picks the tumbler up and downs what’s in it, craning his neck as the heat makes its way once more down and into his belly. Grimacing, he reaches for her hand as well, returning the squeeze before bringing it up to his lips. With his other hand, he pours himself a fourth whiskey. Regina whispers his name in warning, and the look he gives her is so sad that she doesn’t persist. She understands he needs this right now, just to get through it.

“I followed Dad to a brownstone. Watched him skip up these wide stone steps, and I remember thinking he looks so _happy_ ,” he laughs bitterly, taking another drink from his tumbler. “Then a woman opened the door. Redhead. Much younger than him. He kissed her and I felt like I was having an out of body experience. I ran to the nearest train station and vomited in a rubbish bin. When I stood up to wipe my lip with my jacket, I caught a boy around my age or so picking someone’s pocket. I watched him for several minutes as he did it again to two more people.”

“And that was how you met Will?” Regina asks as Robin nods slowly, a sad smile on his face.

“I wanted trouble and I wasn’t going to stop until I found it. At least with thieving, I would be getting money out of it.” Laughing bitterly, he takes another long sip, emptying his glass once again before reaching over for the bottle.

Regina’s hand comes over his and he turns sideways, looking her in the eye. “I’ve never seen you drink this much is all. I’m worried,” she admits.

Sighing he nods at her in understanding, says she’s probably right, so he goes on with his story. She’s rightfully concerned; he’s downed six fingers of whiskey in less than fifteen minutes, and she can see his skin has reddened with heat, tiny beads of sweat forming at the hairline of his sideburns and just outside his stubble. John’s words come back to haunt her.

In the last several weeks, Regina’s gotten to know Robin’s house well so she knows he keeps towels here and she gets up off the barstool and goes around the back of the bar. Reaching below, she tugs on one of the crate bins, pulling out a small washcloth, then turns around to the tiny sink at the far end of the bar, running it under the cool water then squeezing it in both hands before coming back around the bar to sit next to him. Placing the cool cloth against his skin, she asks, “Would you like some water?”

Shaking his head he says he’d rather have some more whiskey. Knowing what she knows now, she’s not thrilled with his drinking, not like this, and he must see it in her expression because he says, “Babe, just one more. Then I’ll put the bottle away, yeah?”

He looks so beaten, and though she knows that Robin had been in therapy, albeit reluctantly, she isn’t sure if he’s also sought help for the drinking. They aren’t going anywhere tonight, and he’s retelling a painful story about his past, so as uncomfortable as it makes her, she reaches for the bottle and slowly twists the cap off, then reaches for his tumbler and pours him one finger. Then she takes the bottle and stands, closing the cap as she bends to store the bottle with the rest of the liquor on a shelf behind the bar, next to the bin full of towels. Robin watches her curiously but doesn’t ask. She returns to her seat, and shrugs her shoulders dismissively, whispering in his ear, “It’s called a ‘ _compromise_ ’ Mr. Locksley. Now, go on with your story.” And her hand returns to run soothing motions along his back, neck, and shoulders, making him shiver. When he leans over to plant a kiss on her cheek and tell her she’s marvelous, he sways a bit and she tells him to stay still, she’ll be right back.

Regina returns with a bottle of water and places it before him. “When you finish your last drink, make sure you drink all of this.” 

Laughing he mutters, “Yes ma’am.” He ends up screwing the cap off the water right then and tossing it aside, taking a long sip. “Where was I? Ah, right. I found Will stealing,” he says as his nail pics at the corner of the label on the water bottle, working to peel it off.

“I approached him and introduced myself then asked if he would teach me to pickpocket with him. He thought I was insane, told me so with some very colorful language,” he says, laughing at the memory. “It took some convincing on my part but eventually he came around and we became…partners.”

“And you were both twelve?” Regina asks.

“By that time I was almost fourteen actually. Will wasn’t far behind, he was thirteen.”

She nods at him, then angles her head his way, ceasing her hand’s movement momentarily and asks, “So it was because of your father that you met Will that day?” She’s sure that’s how they know one another, and her jaw almost hits the floor when Robin speaks again.

“Yes and no. You see, the redhead my father was apparently living with? Will was her son. Neither of us found out about that pesky detail until much later,” he says quietly. “Turns out, Will was acting out the same way as I was. He wasn’t happy that his mum had met another man, that the other man had moved in with them. He said my father tried to win him over, told him several times that he had a son about his age, and Will wouldn’t pay him any mind, often leaving the room while my father was speaking.”

“So he wasn’t happy that his mother and your father were together,” she says as a matter of fact. “What ever happened to his father?”

Robin lets out a long, steady exhale then says, “He died when Will was just a boy, younger than Roland.” He reaches over for the whiskey, sipping slowly then picking up the water to chase it down. Regina reaches for her own tumbler and takes a big gulp of whiskey herself. It’s a lot to process.

“We never considered ourselves brothers, though our parents did get married after Dad divorced my mum.”

Regina’s arm had made it’s way around his waist and pulls at him, then scoots a little closer and peppers kisses along his bicep. “I’m sorry. That sounds like it was so difficult for you. I can’t imagine what it must have been like.”

Turning on the stool to face her, he brings her hand up to his lips and closes his eyes, breathing deeply then kisses her palm. “It’s a part of me, of my past, and it’s been years since I’ve thought of all this, and well…for lack of a better analogy, it’s like reopening an old wound,” he finishes. 

She brings the hand he’d just kissed and caresses his cheek, his stubble rubbing softly against it as she kisses him softly and murmurs once more that they can table the conversation, that they have a lot going on, tamping down her own curiosity as she wonders how Will Scarlet knows the Golds.

As if reading her mind, Robin says, “I’ve no idea how the bloody fuck Will Scarlet knows Spencer Gold’s wife. That’s another random piece to this mess of a puzzle we’re trying to solve.” He picks up the cap of his water bottle and tosses it to the trashcan kept in the corner of the man cave, blinking twice when the cap makes it inside from that distance, his mind still back in England and his parents’ failed marriage, and petty thieving with Will.

“We don’t have to solve anything tonight. We’ve put in a lot of time and have gotten nowhere. I think we should rest,” Regina says. 

Robin can’t believe his luck at having found someone like her. If he believed in such things like soulmates, he’d say that Regina was his, a whole entity cut apart to create two perfect, complementary halves, because right at this moment, he realizes that he always approaches her in the same way. Whenever she’s explained a difficult part of her past, he always listens, never pressures for more information, and always gives her his undivided attention, never once judging her for her mistakes. Tonight, she’s repaid the favor in kind. 

Taking her hand once more, Robin says, “I want you to know me, to know all the pieces that make me the man before you now.” 

She grabs her tumbler again and finishes the amber liquid then readjusts herself on the stool. “I’m all ears.”

He begins telling Regina the story about his childhood in greater detail, keeping his head on his bottled water the entire time. Everything seemed pretty normal. Robin remembers his parents getting along, hearing his mother talk about wanting more children often, but his father wasn’t as keen on the subject, often insisting they already had Robin and he was an incredible boy. And for his part, Robin always tried his best to make his parents proud. He played football, got good grades, and often approached his teachers with ideas about how to help those less fortunate. He often collected cans of food and old blankets his family no longer needed and boxed them up, taking them to local homeless shelters.

When he was nine years old, his mother announced tearfully and with pride that she was pregnant, and she was all smiles so he’d understood that she was happy. He remembers his father frowning, and he’d asked him if he wasn’t happy. His father had responded that of course he was, that it was a surprise was all.

Sadly, though his mother’s pregnancy was short-lived; she miscarried a month later, and subsequently fell into a deep depression. He remembers her breath reeking of liquor, often her only words were to tell him and his father how tired she felt. She slept most of the day, and sometimes wouldn’t shower.

Robin and his father started having to keep up with the household chores, cooking and cleaning, doing the shopping and running errands. This went on for a few years until finally, his father had had enough and he left them.

As he tells her the story, Regina never lets go of his hand. Squeezing his fingers intermittently, she lets him know she’s there, she’s listening, and she feels for him. Robin looks into her eyes and runs his thumb over her lips as she kisses his finger. “You know, sharing this with you, hearing myself speak…I’m almost ashamed at having judged my father for leaving. Mum was a right mess. She could barely take care of herself, let alone us and our home. The miscarriage really took a toll on her, but what made me hate him was that after he left, she only became stronger _because she didn’t have a choice_. Child services would have taken me into custody otherwise, declared her unfit, at least until my father had been found but I didn’t want to live with him, because he’d left. He left me, us— _everything_ —behind, as if none of it ever mattered, as if _I’d_ never mattered,” he says angrily now, his voice starting to crack.

“Your mother never thought to talk to someone, a therapist? Where is she now?” Regina asks quietly.

He takes more sips of his water before answering, swallowing audibly. “She passed away twelve years ago.” At her whispered apology, he shrugs and says, “It happened before I married Marian. She never got to meet Roland. She would have loved him.”

Sighing she says, “I’m sure she would have, Roland’s easy to love.” Leaning into him again, she kisses his cheek then asks, “What about your father? Where is he?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Robin looks at her for the first time since he started his story. “My guess is he’s still in England but I’ve no idea really. I suppose he’s still married to Will’s mum, but again…”

“Right,” she nods again in understanding.

Robin smacks his lips and says, “Fuck, it’s bloody hot here. And I think I’m a little sloshed. Do you think less of me?” His eyes crinkle in the corners and he smiles sweetly at her, dimples on full display.

Regina kisses each dimple then cups his jaw, running her fingers along his stubble before dropping another kiss to the tip of his nose. “Never,” she assures him. “Come on, let’s go inside where it’s cool, and get you to bed. You’ll feel better after you get some sleep. We have more digging to do tomorrow, and Roland’s coming home. Which reminds me,” she says, “do you guys not celebrate the holidays?”

When Robin tries to stand up, he sways to and fro a bit. Placing his palms on the bar top to steady himself, Regina’s arm comes around his waist as one of his arms comes up and around her shoulder. “Stood up too fast. We do celebrate the holidays, but I’m afraid Marian used to put out all the decorations and I simply haven’t got to it. Oh fuck,” he groans, “Christmas is this week isn’t it?”

“It’s alright. We’ll worry about that tomorrow. Come on babe, let me help you,” she says, her arm firmly around his waist but before she starts to walk, he pulls her closer to him.

“D’you know, that’s the first time you’ve called me ‘ _babe_ ’? I like it,” he rasps trying to sound sexy but his words are a little slurred. It’s enough to make Regina laugh. His expression is serious and goofy, and he smirks at her, his dimples deep and the corners of his eyes crinkle as he stares down at her.

Arching an eyebrow, Regina smirks at him. “Do you not like it? Cause I can call you something else if you prefer,” she asks.

“No, love, no. I do,” he smiles down at her and she gives him a quick kiss, leading them both out of the man cave and back into his blissfully cooler home. She takes his clothes off, then folds them and puts them atop his dresser. He looks adorable like this, she thinks, in his black underwear and nothing else, his hair a little disheveled after running his fingers through it. “Aren’t you coming to bed with me darling?”

“I am, I’m just going to let Lola out one last time and get you some more water and aspirin before we go to sleep. You okay? Anything else I can get you?”

Robin shakes his head and smiles sweetly. “No, thank you. Come back soon.”

“I will,” she promises and walks out of the room, leaving him alone with a head full of memories he hadn’t thought of in well over a decade.

 

*.*.*.*

When Regina returns to Robin’s bedroom she finds him sound asleep and snoring softly, his body curled toward her spot, the empty glass of water she’d brought him before letting the dog out sitting on his nightstand and the two aspirin gone. She was outside a little longer than usual with Lola, her thoughts swimming with unanswered questions. Who was Marco Geppes? How did Will Scarlet know Belle Gold? Who had assaulted Gold in the first place? Could it have been Zelena Greene-Whitfield? After all, she was the one responsible for August Booth’s assault. But no, that didn’t make any sense. Zelena had hired thugs to assault August, and she still didn’t have the full story on that other than what Daniel had mentioned in his text. And now there was Robin’s information to process as well. Is that why Gold flaunted those photographs of her and Robin in her face? Did he know Will’s connection to Robin? Her head felt like it was spinning. She called out to Lola and the dog came promptly. Her girl was getting older, a white circle making itself more prominent on her snout, and Regina kissed her there, just above her nose. “Time to go to bed, girl. Come on,” she said opening the door as the dog followed her into the house. 

Feeling no calmer than she had outside, Regina took her time brushing her teeth. She removed her contact lenses and put her glasses on before undressing herself to moisturize her skin and face, then slipped a dark gray satin knee-length nighty over her head, letting the material slide down her body. Her bag and robe were in Robin’s room so she quietly opened his door again and took her bag outside to the living room, slipping her arms into the robe, pulling the belt around her waist and tying it into a knot. Pulling the zipper from one of the outer compartments of her rollaway, she took out a small bag that resembled a first aid kit, only it was clear and held a few bandaids, antiseptic, aspirin, nasal spray, and sleep aids. She took one sleep aid out, then zipped the bag back up, returning it to it’s compartment, then walked into the kitchen for a glass of water. Killian could be home at any moment and sure enough, just as she was thinking it, the man walked in. He was talking to someone, he wasn’t alone. _John?_ she thought, but no, it wasn’t John’s voice. She washed and dried her cup, returning it to the cabinet before she softly called out, “Killian?”

“Regina, luv is that you?” Killian called back.

His footsteps get closer, his and someone else’s, and when she looks up, she gasps. “David?!”

David looks surprised to see her, his mouth gaping open like a fish but nothing comes out.

Killian looks between them. “You two know each other?”

David licks his lips nervously. “Uh, we uh… We…”

Regina speaks up, saving him from having to explain. “We…knew each other…a long time ago, right?,” she nods at him, her eyes a little wider than usual. When Killian snickers, she turns her gaze sharply to his. “What’s so funny?”

“Sorry luv, you looked like you’d seen a ghost. Nothing funny,” he looks properly chastised, though somewhat confused. “I thought you and Robin might either be asleep or…otherwise occupied.”

Staring daggers at Killian, she says, “He fell asleep, he was tired. I was just about to go to bed myself. If you’ll excuse me.”

Killian’s hand on her arm stops her. “Wait luv,” he says, clearing his throat. “We’re just coming back from an investigation. I believe Robin mentioned you know an attorney named Spencer Gold.”

She looks at them, then her eyes look to the ceiling before falling closed. In that moment, Regina would have given anything, would have given her very soul for some rest, a break from everything. “I do. He was Leo’s attorney and now is responsible for overseeing the estate. If you’re going to ask me about him, I know he was assaulted. Robin and I saw it on the news earlier,” she says. “We heard he’s at Mount Sinai.”  
“Are you and Gold close?” Regina shakes her head. “So you wouldn’t have any idea who might’ve done it?” Killian asks.

Shaking her head again she says she doesn’t, then angles her chin and says, “Killian, is there any chance you know who Will Scarlet is?”

“Will Scarl…you mean Robin’s step brother? Yes, I know of him, luv, why?”

“He was walking out of the hospital with Belle, Gold’s wife. Do you know how he’d know them or her?”

“Not right now but I’ll certainly look into it. I didn’t know Will was in town. You’d think he’d have called Robin, met up with us for a pint,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. “Luv, speaking of looking into things, I found some more information on Marco Geppes for you, with David’s help,” he says.

David hadn’t said a word, but when his name is mentioned, he looks at her and Regina finds herself looking away, focusing instead on Killian.

“What did you find out?”

Clearing his throat, David says, “It appears Marco Geppes is the son of an old relative of yours. Someone named Salvatore Melis, Jr. We know they’d changed their last name to Mills when they emigrated to the States. Salvatore returned to Italy as an adult often, and used the name Melis while he was there.”

“ _‘Some information?’_ That’s one hell of a background check,” Regina quips, crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow at both of them. “I’m impressed.”

David smiles but goes on. “We found out Salvatore had had an affair with a woman named Martina Geppes who gave birth to a son she named Marco. Melis was still married, his wife was here, and he had no intention of leaving her. As far as we know it, he refused to acknowledge the boy, so Martina made his middle name _Melis_ after his father, your great uncle. So that makes Marco Geppes…”

Sinking down into a chair, Regina finishes his sentence. “My cousin. Marco _Melis_ Geppes,” she says looking at the men, before removing her glasses and laying them on the table, her hands coming up to rub at her temples. She could feel a migraine coming on, and as she rubbed the skin applying some pressure, her fingers traced a thick vein alongside one temple. “Excuse me, I can feel a migraine coming on and I’m going to need my medication. I’ve got some Excedrin in my bag,” she says, but Killian offers to grab it for her and he returns a moment later with the bottle, but before handing it to her, he gets a glass of water then returns to her with both items.

“Here you are, luv. I know it’s a lot to process,” he says, to which she scoffs. _If he only knew the half of it_ , she thinks. “Why don’t we let you get some rest. We’d be more than happy to continue this conversation after you’ve slept and are feeling better. What do you say?”

Nodding at him gratefully, she thanks them both then leaves the kitchen, rolling her eyes when Killian whispers loudly, “How do you two know each other?”

Regina stops walking until she hears David say, “It’s a long story.” Relaxing once more, she lets her feet carry her into Robin’s room where she crawls in underneath the covers and takes her glasses off, setting them on the nightstand before turning the lamp off, finally enveloping them in the blissful peace and quiet the darkness brings.

 

*.*.*.*

A loud clap of thunder awakens Robin. His eyes adjust blearily, noting it’s after 7:00, and he can tell it’s daylight outside, even though the skies are gray and dreary. A steady rain falls thickly from the sky, pounding on the tiles of his roof, wrapping against his bedroom window. He’s grateful it’s Sunday and he has nowhere to be. A commute in this kind of weather is murder on the nerves first thing in the morning. His mind drifts to Roland, wondering how his son spent the night. He’s sure Ariel and Eric didn’t allow the boys to sleep outside last night, but nonetheless, he’ll call them later on in the morning before picking him up.

He glances over at Regina sleeping peacefully beside him, a thin strand of hair lying across her forehead. Reaching out, he pushes it off and away as gently as he can without waking her. He’s got a hard on but thinks nothing of it since he’s also in need of the restroom, so he gets out of bed quietly.

Unable to sleep anymore, he yawns while his coffee brews, then reaches into the fridge for the pitcher of water. He’s so thirsty, no doubt a side effect of having drunk a few tumblers of whiskey, but he notices he doesn’t have a headache, or even the faintest hangover, probably because, he remembers, Regina had brought him aspirin. He sits down with his mug of fresh coffee in the living room when something catches his eye. There’s a bright colored post-it note with Regina’s name scrawled on it in Killian’s handwriting, stuck on a manila folder sitting on the coffee table. Setting his steaming mug down, he opens the folder and finds a photograph of an older man, probably in his late fifties or early sixties. Clipped to the photo is a background check report. Thumbing through the pages, Robin starts reading it, and his mouth falls open when he learns it’s Marco Geppes, and he’s related to Regina after all. The answers they’d spent nearly two days searching for at her father’s house now sitting on his lap.

 

*.*.*.*

An hour later, Regina walks out of his room and whispers good morning before going into the kitchen for a cup of coffee herself. Sitting down next to him, Robin wishes her a good morning as well and a quick kiss. “Killian left this for you, and I’m sorry my curiosity got the better of me, but…you’re related to—”

“Marco Geppes. I know,” she says nodding. “Killian and I spoke last night. I didn’t know about this though.” Placing her mug next to his empty one on the coffee table, she takes the folder from his lap and sifts through it’s contents. “None of this adds up. For instance, how does he know me, and why is he looking for me in the first place. My father never mentioned him.”

Robin rubs her back soothingly, smiling when he recalls she was doing the same to him last night. “Perhaps the rest of your family in Italy has welcomed him despite Salvatore not acknowledging his paternity?”

Regina hums, but doesn’t seem convinced. “I think there’s more to the story, there has to be. I just can’t figure out what that is.” Sighing loudly, she closes the folder and puts it back on the coffee table, helping herself to more of her coffee. “Where did you say the decorations were stored?”

Her eyes are suddenly brighter, and he smiles and says, “In some bins in the man cave.”

“I’m going to finish this then freshen up and get dressed, and you should do the same. We only have a few hours before Roland is back home and I want to do something special for him.”

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Robin smiles at her before dotting her cheeks and lips with quick kisses. “What was that for?”

“For being you, darling. You brighten not only my days but my son’s as well.”

She smiles back at him and says, “Ditto.”

 

*.*.*.*

 

Neither one wants to think or talk about Geppes or Gold, though Regina does make a mental note to text Daniel later and ask about August. Maybe she can take another flight out in a few weeks when August is healed and he can brief her on the whereabouts of Maude and Zelena, even if a part of her is tempted to say fuck it, let them keep her uncle’s money. _Not right now though_ , she tells herself, _right now is about making this home as festive as possible for a very sweet boy._

She looks over at Robin who’s stacking bins full of holiday decorations by the garage’s door to take into the house. When he catches her watching him, he gives her a wink and she smiles back before he opens the door, four neatly stacked boxes in his arms. She watches his foot gently push the door closed. It feels so nice being here, so _normal_ to be doing this. Robin’s home is a _home_ , it’s well lived in, with love and laughter and people. If she were at her house, Regina knows she’d be in her gym right now working up a sweat to pounding beats coming from the surround sound stereo system. Her eyes wander over to Robin’s treadmill and she figures she could always exercise here.

Her hands are detangling a set of lights, and all this sorting through holiday decorations is a welcome distraction. Feeling frustration at an impossible knot, she takes the lights over to the door and kneels before a light switch, plugging them in. The set doesn’t turn on, so she stands and tosses it into the trash, just as Robin walks back out. “Broken,” she says as an explanation, and he nods an _Ah_ at her.

They’ve avoided turning on the television, checking social media feeds for any local news, or otherwise equally disturbing events. Killian is still sleeping, and John is at Trina’s. It’s barely nine in the morning but she feels much better and more rested than she did yesterday.

Her mind drifts to the last holiday she spent with Leo, to the delivery of over a hundred pine trees that made the house smell like a forest. He’d planned to host a holiday dinner party with other business executives and their spouses. Regina never thought about it until now; for a man who wanted so desperately for her to have his child, Leo’s dinner parties never included children. She knew not every associate of his was childless; in fact, she knew several of them who had families. Yet, no child ever showed up to these events. She always figured it was because they were formal dinners, but a memory of a picnic at a park on one sunny weekend makes it’s way to the forefront of her mind. Frowning, she remembers how Leo had hired a catering company to serve food and beverages underneath a tent equipped with several fans and citronella candle torches to keep bugs away. It was the middle of the day, and yet no one under 21 was there.

“Everything alright babe?” Robin startles her out of her thoughts. “You seemed lost for a moment there,” he says his hand gently squeezing her shoulder. She brings it up and kisses the back of it, grazing it with her cheek.

“Yes, everything’s fine,” she assures him. “Have you found your tree yet?”

Scratching his forehead, he lets out a nervous chuckle. “I’m afraid the tree has suffered some damage. The rods were all oxidized and when I tried to bend them into place, the branches broke off.”

Laughing, she shakes her head at him. “Come on. If we hurry, we can get a fresh one, and I know just where. Roland will appreciate it so much more.” Taking his hand, she leads him out of the man cave, where she grabs the keys.

“You don’t want me to drive?”

“No, I know just where to go. We have to be quick though, so we have enough time to set everything up,” she says pulling him out into the heat with her.

 

*.*.*.*

 

When they return home with a thick, medium sized Douglas fir strapped to the Mercedes’ roof, they find Killian at the dinner table finishing a breakfast of toast and eggs. “Good morning,” he greets them.

“It’s almost mid-day, mate,” Robin says laughing. “Late night as usual, I assume?”

Killian nods. “We found some information on Geppes. Regina luv, did you see the folder I left with your name on it.”

“I did, thank you. I haven’t read through it yet myself though,” she says, walking over to the prepare herself a cup of coffee.

“I read through it though,” Robin says. “Though the man is related to her, it still doesn’t answer the question, why did he send someone to search her out now?”

Killian lifts and lowers his shoulders as he swallows his food. “We’re working on finding out where he is right now. David thinks he might be in Central Florida. I have to follow up with my contact there. I heard Will is back in town.”

“Aye, he is,” Robin says. “Wait, how did you know?” Looking at Regina, his eyes question and she nods her head, but it’s Killian who responds.

“David and I were on the scene last night after Spencer Gold’s assault. We’re still looking into it, but we haven’t any suspects yet,” he says swiping his toast through yolk before putting the final bit of his meal into his mouth and chewing. He wipes a napkin at the corners of his mouth before taking his dish to the sink and rinsing it. “Which reminds me…luv, how do you and David know each other?”

Robin turns his head toward Regina. “You know David?”

Sitting down with her mug in both hands, she murmurs it’s a long story then takes a long sip of coffee to avoid having to answer. Both men stare at her expectantly and her lips form a straight line she before answers. “Yes. We do know each other, and no I am not going to give you the specifics, so don’t ask.” Looking directly at Robin, she says, “At least not right now. Killian,” she says, her eyes going back to him. “Would you please help us bring the Christmas tree into the house?”

 

*.*.*.*

 

Several hours later, Robin and Regina, with Killian’s sometimes reluctant help, have transformed his home into a warm, festive environment. There are reindeer themed throw pillows on the couch. Poinsettias in different sized silver planters are scattered around the house, and there’s a sprig of mistletoe tied with red ribbon hanging on a raffia thread from the light fixture in Robin’s dining room. When Regina had asked, he said, “You wouldn’t want Killian or John kissing me, now would you?” The thought alone made her laugh out loud, and when Killian called out that he’d heard him and that he should be so lucky as to be kissed by such a dashing rapscallion, Regina doubled over with laughter. 

Six stockings, also in the shape of reindeer, now hung on a wall beside the thick fir, which they’d adorned with white string lights and red and silver shiny balls in different sizes. Sitting atop it is a silver reindeer’s head, the antlers balancing it nicely. Though it wasn’t technically a Christmas decoration, Robin had brought it out from the man cave, insisting it had to go on it. “To man it up,” he joked as Killian smirked and Regina rolled her eyes. “Otherwise it’s too feminine, though you’ve truly outdone yourself, my love, thank you,” he says kissing her cheek.

It was so nice to forget all that was wrong in her world, Regina thought. Even if it was for a short period of time.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long absence. Life and adulting got in the way, and I've been involved in several projects for school. One of them won a gold award - so yay! Thank you to Babylawyer for beta-ing this chapter. It's a short one, but the next chapter is already in the works. And since I asked on Twitter if you were okay with shorter chapters but more frequent updates, I also took that into consideration and chose to publish this one sooner. I promise I won't make you wait over a month for the next chapter. Enjoy!

When Roland walked into his home Sunday night, smiling and giggling as Lola licked his hands, his eyes widened in awe. The last thing he’d ever expected to see was a literal Christmas wonderland. His little jaw fell open and he looked behind him, first at Robin, then at Regina. She kneeled down as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, squeezing her neck. She breathed him in and whispered, “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” When she stood back up, Robin’s arm snaked around her waist. Roland walked up to the tree gingerly then his eyes looked over at the wall full of stockings with each of their names on them before turning with a frown.

“What about you and Lola?”

Regina hummed at him in confusion, brow furrowed. “What about us?”

Roland’s pouty lips straightened out, and when he uttered the next words, Robin’s hand squeezed her waist as he kissed the side of her head.

“You and Lola should have stockings up with your names on them too, Regi. You’re part of our family. Aren’t they, Dad?”

Regina felt touched but at the same time, she wasn’t sure what to say so she kneeled again, as Lola sniffed her hair, making her and Roland laugh. “Our stockings are hung up at _our_ house. That’s why they’re not here.”

The boy looked a little dejected but he made no issue about it, instead he just nodded. “Yeah,” he mumbled, “that makes sense, I guess.”

It’s a little forced, she thinks, so she stands up and says, “Tell you what: why don’t we do something _extra special_ this year? We’ll put extra stockings up here for me and Lola, and we’ll get you and your father extra stockings to put up at my house?”

Roland’s eyes light up as he smiles, wrapping his arms around Regina’s hips as she feels Robin’s thumb and forefinger stroking the back of her neck through her hair. She feels loved, appreciated, and happier than she’s been in ages.

 

*.*.*.*

 

Robin had put in a request to work half days at the firm for the two weeks of Roland’s holiday break. Except for the holidays, the office would remain open during the final weeks of the year, and Mary Margaret had agreed to stay with Roland during the day until Robin got off work. With Trina’s help, he’d planned a holiday luncheon and a Secret Santa gift exchange, until Larry Cross announced he wouldn’t be participating because he didn’t celebrate holidays due to his personal religious beliefs. Trina and Robin decided to nix the idea of the gift exchange, but could barely contain their laughter when Tom stopped by to chit chat at their workspaces, cup of coffee in hand to ask about the requirements for the gift exchange and whether there was an amount or a wish list for everyone to make the shopping easier. Trina explained how they were no longer doing it because neither wanted to offend Larry. In the end, Tom poked enough fun at him for being a cheapskate that Larry ended up contributing begrudgingly and ended up having a good time after a few drinks.

The luncheon went well. Regina thanked everyone for their hard work throughout the year, then Trina and Robin hosted the gift exchange before Regina took the floor again to hand out everyone’s annual bonus.

She soon returned to her office and closed the door to review some documents Mal had sent her that morning. She was deep in thought, glasses on and leaning forward, so concentrated on what she was reading she didn’t hear Robin walk into the office. The sound of his voice startled her, one hand coming up to clutch her chest as she narrows her eyes then smiles when he smirks.

“Sorry for scaring you, love. I don’t believe I’ve ever told you how fetching I find those glasses,” he says.

“You might have mentioned it a time or two in the past,” she laughs. “And you did scare me half to death, Robin. You really know how to creep up on someone unannounced, don’t you?” His only answer is a hearty laugh. She smiles and asks, “Did everyone go home already?”

“Trina’s the only one left, she’s just packing up. Might I ask what you’re working so hard on yourself?”

Leaning back,she sighs and removes her glasses to press her fingers to her temple. She can feel a bit of a headache coming on. Reaching into her drawer, she brings out a small bottle of aspirin and drops two of them into her palm, washing them down with some sparkling water. “Just something from Mal, but it’s all stuff I’ve read before. I’m actually thinking of closing up and just heading out. Why haven’t you left yet?”

He tilts his head at her and puts his elbows on his knees. “I’m not leaving until you do, babe.” She has to hold back a chuckle because from this angle, Robin looks like a floating head in front of her desk. “What’s so funny?”

She licks her lips and says it’s nothing, that he shouldn’t worry about her, she’ll be fine here.

“If it’s no trouble, I’d rather wait. Unless you have another secret boyfriend or lover you’re hiding somewhere,” he muses.

And just like that, there it is: the unspoken words they’ve been skating around for over a month. Are they together or are they just lovers? ‘Boyfriend’ would imply they’re exclusive, while ‘lover’ let’s her know the ball is in her court, there’s no pressure, so typical of Robin. She can’t help finding him both adorable and amusing. She remembers her relationship with Daniel while they were in law school, and how he’d danced around the issue for ages, slowly infuriating her until she decided she’d had enough and gave him an ultimatum. Then she thinks of Leo, and how different that relationship was as well. Leo having been twelve years older than Regina was also a lot more confident, but he also didn’t have any qualms about dating or going after what he wanted.

“Now that you’ve remained silent, I’m starting to worry I’m right,” Robin teases.

“Sorry,” Regina says, leaning back into her chair. “I was just thinking about something…about Leo,” she dismisses with a wave of her hand. “It’s nothing.” 

Robin’s expression is hard to read, so she asks him if everything’s alright and he assures that it is, then gets up and says he’s going to check everything is locked up and say goodbye to Trina.

 

*.*.*.*

 

He needs space, just a little breather. He threw that out there unintentionally at first and was about to take it back, but decided not to. He and Regina hadn’t fully defined this _thing_ going on between them, but they _had_ already admitted they were falling in love with each other, and even though he knew it was silly, knew it might sound needy and ridiculous if he voiced it aloud, he also wanted to make sure there were no other Andy’s waiting in the wings. He wanted to be sure that Daniel wasn’t waiting for a moment when he could confess he was secretly still in love with Regina, too. Robin wanted her one hundred percent to himself. Though he often told himself it didn’t matter whether or not they put a label on their relationship, and that forcing it was immature, he also wanted to hear her say there wasn’t anyone else. He’d never wondered about those seemingly trivial things with Marian, and it wasn’t until the name _Rodrigo Silva_ entered their world that he wished they’d had better, more open communication between them.

Had anyone asked Robin a decade ago if he’d be _that_ guy, the male needing to inquire where he stood in his relationship, he’d have laughed. But when his marriage ended the way it did, it was an eye-opening experience. He figured he’d rather be _that_ guy than the one he became; the one who was always angry, the one who ran until his legs gave out as his mind screamed, Y _ou’re a pussy, a coward, a jackass—you should have seen this coming!_ He’d taken to drinking, to exercising to the point of exhaustion, ignoring Roland often and whenever his friends brought the problem up, he picked fights with them. As Archie helped him realize, although the situations in life mold and shape everyone into the people they become, ultimately it’s the choices they make that determine the outcomes. And Robin was forced to decide to either keep going down a destructive path, or channel that anger into something positive—being a better man, a better father, a better friend, and eventually feeling worthy of being able to fall in love again as well. When Archie had said all that, his first reaction was to laugh, but when the therapist remained serious, Robin became indignant and insulted him, arguing that being a licensed psychiatrist didn’t mean he understood _him._ Archie had poked and it hadn’t been pleasant at the time, when he’d gotten under his skin and into his core. Robin had felt like a caged animal then, one who didn’t want to be set free because he felt safe in that bubble.

Meeting Regina had hit him like a roundhouse kick to the gut. He hadn’t stood a chance against the woman. She was beautiful and elegant, and she carried herself with an air of authority around everyone. She always smelled so good, and she always exuded wealth, power and confidence. Robin used to try his damnedest not to look at the way her calves flexed when she walked, the muscles accentuated by the stockings she wore. He tried not to breathe deeply whenever she walked by; he’d always wondered what perfume she wore, and it wasn’t until after they’d started becoming friendlier that he’d asked her about her perfume and she’d answered with a laugh.

He remembers that time Roland wanted to go to the mall to check out a new video game his friends had been raving about, and when they’d walked by Sephora, the smell hit him, and he’d stopped his son with a hand on his shoulder, steering him into the store to ask one of the workers for a bottle of Coco Mademoiselle, admitting quietly that it was a gift as Roland smiled brightly at the salesperson and said, “That’s what Regina smells like!”

Up until then, Robin hadn’t known what to get Regina for Christmas. She’d insisted she already had everything she wanted, which was false because she didn’t have her career, but that was something he couldn’t fix, no matter how desperately he wanted to.

The office lights are off except for the lamp at his cubicle. Trina was gone, and Robin loosened his tie. He’d cleaned up his workstation, done all the filing that had piled up, and finished four proposals on bid submissions he’d been working on all week.

When he leans back and closes his eyes, he feels Regina’s arms come around his shoulder, her voice in his ear. “Was that your way of asking me to go steady back there?,” she purrs, making him laugh wholeheartedly as his hands come up, his fingers trace patterns playfully on her arms.

“Something like that, yes. Would you like me to write you a note? Ask if you’ll be my girlfriend, then have you circle yes or no?”

“Only if you want to,” she says and nips his earlobe. “But we both know what the answer is anyway.”

His arms come around her waist and he pulls her down into the seat with him. She lets out a yelp when they lean back, fearing they might fall over. Their eyes meet and they’re snickering for several minutes before Regina kisses him, softly at first but this kiss quickly builds with intensity and passion. When she pulls back, her hands holding onto his shoulders for purchase, her lips are swollen and moist. “As trite as this may sound, Robin, all I want for Christmas…is you. Is that okay?”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding and says, “Of course it is.” His hand reaches for his top drawer, pulling out a small sprig of mistletoe, then holds it over their heads. “Happy Christmas Regina,” he whispers. 

“Merry Christmas Robin,” she whispers before leaning back in for another kiss. 

 

*.*.*.*

 

He insists on following her home, but Regina promises that it’s not necessary and when Robin grumbles, she tells him that she actually has a surprise for Roland. They’re standing outside by their cars, fully understanding that anyone from work could potentially see them, and since they’d already kissed goodbye properly indoors, they stand apart a respectable distance so that, to a casual observer, they look like two colleagues engaged in friendly conversation. “Might I know what this surprise is for my son?”

“No you may not. You’ll see it soon enough,” she says as she opens the door and throws her bag and blazer into the passenger seat.

“You’ll call me once you get home?,” he asks.

“I promise I will,” she says as she turns on the car, cranking up the air conditioning so it starts cooling the merciless heat trapped inside. “I have an idea. Why don’t you boys come over tonight? I’ll stop somewhere and get us some things for dinner. We can have a sleepover,” she adds smiling.

Robin smirks and wriggles his eyebrows at her. “You want _both of us_ to spend the night?”

“Yes. And you don’t need to pack anything for Roland either, he’s all set,” she says, her smile turning coy.

 _What has this woman done?_ , he wonders. “I’m…concerned,” he says.

“Don’t be. I promise, everything’s fine. You’ll see. Why don’t you head over around six?,” she asks as she climbs into her SUV, lowering the window before she closes the door. When Robin remains silent, she asks, “You don’t think I’d do anything to hurt Roland, do you? Because I love that kid.” Her voice sounds a little hurt, and he’s quick to reassure her.

“No darling, nothing like that. I know you love him. It’s just me being a parent is all, wondering why I shouldn’t pack anything for him and…never mind,” he laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m still thinking about all the work I just accomplished in record time. It’s mind boggling. We’ll see you tonight at six, Your Majesty. Drive safely,” he tells her, then smiles warmly and winks.

She laughs and says _okay_ , then drives off as Robin turns to his own car and does the same in the opposite direction.

 

*.*.*.*

 

Regina’s “surprise” for Roland ends up being his very own room in her home, complete with all of the comforts any boy his age would want or need. She got him his own clothes, an iPad Mini with a charging station, and several comic books, but that’s not all. The room also boasted a ninety-inch flat screen television and an Xbox game console, a mini bar stocked with snacks and small water bottles, a reading nook, several pieces of furniture, and even an enormous chair that converted into a full-sized bed.

While Roland’s surveys everything, awestruck and dreamily looking at all the things in the room before reaching out to tentatively touch, Robin’s eyes tear up. Regina’s arm comes around his waist as he chokes out ‘ _it’s too much’_ and she clucks her tongue at him, insisting nothing is too much for her cutie-pie.

The next day is Christmas Eve, and they’d agreed to spend it at his house with their friends. Regina had solicited Killian and John’s help during the week with picking up Robin’s gift: a fire pit for his yard. She hadn’t known what to get him and had been forced to ask his friends because when she’d asked Robin one night before they’d drifted off to sleep after three mind-numbingly delicious orgasms, he’d mumbled something about having everything he needed right there in his arms, parroting her exact words back to her as she rolled her eyes and playfully swatted his shoulder. They’d hidden the gift in John’s bedroom, knowing Robin never went in there, and then they’d set it up so it would be ready to use by the time they’d made it back to his home in the morning. When he saw it, Robin pulled Regina off to the side, kissed her and said, “I see you’ve been in cahoots with my friends.”

“How else was I supposed to figure out what to get you?” And when he shrugs then bites his lip, she cocks an eyebrow at him and says, “A simple thank you would suffice.”

“Thank you babe, I love it. Truly,” he assures then kisses her again, this time cradling the back of her head in his hand as he inhales the fragrance from her shampoo and then presses his lips to her cheek with another kiss. His other arm is around her waist, holding her closely. Lola rushes by their legs followed by Roland who yelps, “Cool, a fire pit! Can we roast marshmallows, please?!” They break apart laughing, and Regina kneels to look Roland in the eye and says, “Of course we can.”

His son’s arms wrap tightly around her neck as he whispers, “Regina, you’re the best.” And Robin can only think of one thing he would say to her right then that would emphasize that exact sentiment.

 

*.*.*.*

 

Spencer Gold opens his eyes for the first time since his assault several days ago and they fall on Will Smith, who’s sitting in the chair in the corner of his hospital room. “What the hell are you doing here?,” he asks, his voice dry and raspy from disuse. “Where’s my wife?”

“She’s been here for days, man. I sent her home so she could get some rest,” he says as he stands and walks toward Gold’s bedside then leans down close to his face. “Don’t worry, she doesn’t know and I’m not going to be the one to tell her. It would crush her and I don’t think it’s fair, especially in her condition.” Gold nods his head in understanding. “Now, are you ready to reconsider me boss’ offer?”

“Don’t underestimate me dearie,” Gold sneers. “Neither you nor your boss frighten me. I don’t reconsider deals I’ve already rejected.”

“Oi, you’re either entirely stupid, or suicidal, man. He will put you in here again.”

Gold rolls his eyes and presses the call button for the nurse, who rushes in, pushing Will aside with a sharp command. “Sir, you’re not supposed to be in here. It’s 2:00 in the morning. How did you even get past security?” Then turning to Gold, she says, “Welcome back. Do you remember your name?”

“Aye, Spencer Gold. I’m an attorney. I’m married, my wife’s name is Belle,” he rasps and the nurse turns to the kitchenette in the room and pours him some cold water from a plastic pitcher then grabs a bendable straw from the counter and slips it in. She turns to raise his bed before holding the cup up to his lips so he can drink. She turns to Will and says, “Sir, if you don’t leave now I’m going to call security.”

Holding his hands up, he says, “No need to do that, luv. I was just leaving.” He gives one final pointed look at Gold and says, “I’ll give you some time to think about it before I visit again, mate.”

He can hear the nurse as he walks down the hall asking Gold if everything’s alright and whether or not they needed to keep an eye out for this recent visitor, and he can hear Gold say, his voice returning to a more normal range, “There’s no need. He’s family. He’s my wife’s cousin.”

 

*.*.*.*

 

They’d been awake for almost an hour thanks to Roland who’d decided to jump into their bed at the first signs of light, excitedly shrieking, “Merry Christmas Dad! Merry Christmas Regina!” Lola followed him in, tail wagging and gave them a soft friendly bark as she sniffled and licked Regina’s chin. Robin scolded his son, said it was impolite to jump on people who were sleeping no matter what day it was, but Regina shushed him and said it was fine, that his excitement was warranted and it was just one day. Robin harrumphed and got out of bed, rubbing a palm over one sleepy eye as he yawned and headed into the kitchen to prepare some coffee.

As they’d exchanged gifts, Regina reminded Roland not to get too loud since Killian was still asleep and the boy had nodded solemnly, making a cross over his heart as he whispered, “I promise, Regi. I’ll be quiet.” She smiled and kissed the top of his head, running her fingers through soft, messy curls, then sighed when Robin bent over to hand her a cup of coffee, giving her a quick kiss. “Happy Christmas love,” he said.

“Merry Christmas babe,” she smiled back at him.

They’d had the sense to put on their pajamas the night before. Regina’s were incredibly festive: a cheerful red satin decorated with a pattern of artfully lettered “Happy Holidays” all over them. He thought she’d never looked cuter, and as she sat on his bed, slathering her legs with lotion before pulling her bottoms on, black glasses perched on her nose, he’d grinned happily and winked, making her roll her eyes. “Not a word. I’ll have you know I wear these every year for Christmas.”

But Robin didn’t believe her. Why would she have worn them when her marriage had been on the rocks for years and last Christmas her husband had been on his deathbed? He was convinced she’d done it more for Roland’s sake, but he was too exhausted and sated, and wanted nothing more than to kiss her goodnight, then wrap himself around her slender body as they drifted off to sleep together.

She was always so sweet, so considerate with Roland. Unlike him, Regina never lost her temper with his son, not even after today’s jarring wake up call. A few nights ago, she’d impaled the arch of her foot on a forgotten Lego when she’d gone into Roland’s room to let him know dinner was ready, and he’d heard her yelp in pain. He rushed into his son’s bedroom and saw Regina sitting on his bed, rubbing the bottom of her foot with her thumb. Robin had admonished the boy, and when Roland’s eyes had welled with tears, he’d whispered an apology to her. But instead of getting upset, or grimacing in pain, Regina had caressed his son’s cheek, asked him not to cry, and she said that while yes it did hurt, she would be okay. “Let’s make sure we pick them up though, after you’re done playing with them, okay? You wouldn’t want anyone else to get hurt, right?” And his son had shaken his head very seriously.

This morning she was a vision. Her hair was adorably disheveled and Lola lay by her side, tail thumping on the edge of his couch. Her skin looked dewy and fresh though her eyes definitely looked a little sleep deprived. She looked radiant even like this without any makeup on, in her glasses and wearing her holiday pajamas, all smiles and contentment. It was a welcome change from the worried expression she’d had for the week since they’d found out about Marco Geppes and Gold’s assault. When Robin had brought her her coffee, she’d whispered, “Bless you,” and he’d given her a quick peck before kneeling down on the floor with his son, who was busy opening presents and scattering pieces of haphazardly torn gift wrap all over the place.

She smiled though she was visibly tired and when Roland started to excitedly exclaim that he’d gotten the newest Lego Jurassic World game for his Xbox, she gently reminded him that Killian was still asleep. Roland’s hand came up over his mouth, then he loudly hissed, “Right!” Making both her and Robin chuckle in amusement when he made a show of tiptoeing back to his room.

When he wasn’t in earshot, Robin offered, “If you’d like go back and have a lie in darling, feel free. I can make us breakfast and come get you.”

Just as Regina’s about to thank him, the doorbell rings surprising them. She’s wearing a robe but just the same, she folds the front edges of it over herself as her hand falls down to tie the belt, making sure it’s on securely and she’s perfectly decent.

Robin can’t imagine who it might be at this hour on Christmas Day, but he pads barefoot to his front door, Lola following a few steps behind him and when he opens it, he’s flabbergasted.

“Marian.” 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks go to Jess (aka: babylawyer) for beta-ing this chapter. Enjoy!

“Yah, those were his words boss: you didn’t scare him. Don’t think the bloody fool’s going to back down any time soon,” Will’s explaining into the receiver of what is probably one of the last remaining pay phone booths on South Beach. “Understood. I’ll visit after the holiday, yeah? Let her have the day before I extend your proposition. Aye, I have the right name and address, Regina Mills, Cocoplum, got it.” He nods, hangs up, then turns and walks out of the phone booth, pulling the sunglasses off his head and onto his face. A pretty young blonde in a string bikini top and very short denim shorts rollerblades right by him and smiles as Will walks along the sidewalk, muttering, “I’ve always loved the beach.” 

 

*.  *. *.  *

 

Marco Geppes had approached Will a few years ago after he’d robbed him. He liked how wily the young man had been as he’d tried to talk his way out of trouble, explaining why he’d picked his pocket. Marco laughed in amusement when Will’s somber expression declared that he’d only done it because he’d lost his job and his parents were dead, leaving him with a younger sister who was in secondary school, and while he looked for a job, he’d had no other option than to steal to buy them dinner every night. 

The older man had chuckled but Will remained stoic, his face giving nothing away. Two other men had pulled him by his arms into a deserted alley near the train station, where Marco had been waiting. 

After listening to his phony sob story, Marco asked, “How fucking stupid do you think I am, eh?” Will had had the good sense to remain silent. “I’ve been watching you work that platform for several weeks now. I’m impressed you never tried to steal from me before.” 

A burst of courage ripped through Will, and lifting his chin defiantly he said, “So what are you going to do now, mate? Bloody turn me in, to the coppers?”

Marco’s hands folded before him as he looked at Will and tsked. “I’d rather extend a proposition to you,” he said. 

“Sorry mate, not into lads,” Will quipped. Marco looked at one of his men, and from that side, Will felt the pressure of a hand crushing his shoulder, as a menacing voice said in his ear, “When the boss extends a proposition, it would behoove you to listen, even if you do nothing else.” 

Clearing his throat, Will bowed his head slightly at Marco and murmured, “It appears I was brash. Sincere apologies gentlemen.” 

Marco reached into his coat, pulled out a cigar, his hands unwrapping it from the foil as he brought it to his nose, taking a deep breath. From a second pocket, he pulled a small guillotine cutter and expertly clipped off the end of the cigar before bringing it to his lips as the man not holding onto Will, reached over to him holding a long lit match. Marco takes several puffs, blowing out thick, billowy clouds of tobacco smoke, making the muggy air around them appear thick and almost ethereal. 

“I’ll cut to the chase. My colleagues and I have been watching you work and I believe you’d be suitable for the job. I’m looking for someone to be my messenger as needed. Someone stealthy. Mostly I’d have you deliver my offers verbally. Those offers would include both personal and business matters. Occasionally it would be to retrieve something taken from me. After watching you I think you’d be perfect for the job,” Marco said, eyeing Will.  

“You’re asking me to be your messenger boy and occasional thief eh?” Marco narrowed his eyes and looked down at Will but said nothing. “Why me, mate? Am I that pathetic that you think I’d say anything but yes?” 

The older man looked down as he tapped his cigar absentmindedly before bringing it back to his lips and puffing out a few drags. “Would you rather I turn you in? Like I said, we’ve been watching you work that platform for a long while. There might even be some video footage of you… _ working, _ ” he said.

“So, if I’m to understand you correctly, you expect me to drop everything and become your messenger. What about me sister, mate?” Will asked indignantly as Marco waved his hand in his face and shook his head.

“Cut the bullshit, we both know there’s no sister. You live in a flat with three other men, though you often go visit an older redhead in a brownstone,” Marco said with a knowing look. 

At the mention of his mother, Will’s heart rate picked up. These men  _ had _ been following him, and now officially had enough proof against him that could land him in jail, and not just a quick stint either. Will knew his crimes had been going on since he was a teenager and he often joked about his luck running out and fuck if he’s right because here it is, irony of ironies, his own self-fulfilling prophecy. He could either run and hope they didn’t shoot him in the back (he knew they were armed, he’d caught a glimpse of one of Marco’s thugs’ holster a few minutes ago), or he could accept this man’s offer. Will couldn’t think of a reason that was good enough for turning it down. Picking pockets and breaking into little old couples’ homes was getting exhausting. Robin was long gone, had made a life for himself he’d heard, over in America, while Will bounced around from odd job to odd job in between his crimes for years. This was actually not a bad alternative. 

“Alright mate, say I did accept your offer, what other information about me duties could ya give?,” he asked nervously shifting from one leg to the other. Luckily the grip on his shoulder had loosened. 

“That information is given as needed. Right now you haven’t officially accepted my offer, therefore you’re not under my employ yet. So what do you say?” 

Will stared at Marco, clenching his jaw and biding his time. He didn’t have much of a choice here, did he? 

“Don’t tell me that you’ve suddenly grown a conscience, thief,” the older man mused. 

“No mate, only making sure I don’t wind up dead in an alley,” Will quipped as Marco leaned forward, the tobacco-infused breath making Will’s nostrils flare and burn a little but he didn't back down and Marco laughed suddenly. 

“I like you, Scarlet. You’re tenacious,” he said, bringing the cigar back to his lips for a few puffs, then blowing them out as a breeze picked up around them carrying the cloud up into the muggy air. “You have my word: you won’t end up dead in an alley if you accept my proposition. But I will add that if you want to remain alive, you also remain loyal. Do we have a deal?” 

His hand extended toward him and Will hesitated. Looking Marco in the eye, he said, “So long as you leave the older redhead alone—leave everyone else in my family alone,” he amended, “I’ll accept your offer and conditions, mate.” 

The older man nodded as Will took his hand firmly. Taking another pull on his cigar, he said, “We have a deal,” as another cloud of smoke circled Will’s head.   

 

*.  *. *.  *

 

“Are you just going to stand there gawking at me or are you going to let me in Robin? I want to see my son,” Marian huffs impatiently as she rolls her eyes. Regina listens from the couch, and she stunned, frozen in place and not sure whether she should get up or remain seated, but it’s futile since her muscles won’t let her move as she tries to process this latest development in their lives. 

Meanwhile, she hears Robin let out an irritated scoff. “What the hell are you doing here,  _ today _ of all days?,” he hisses. “You’ve  _ never _ been interested in seeing  _ our son _ —not yours, _ ours _ —since you left. Why now all of a sudden?” 

She should go to him, stand beside him while he deals with his ex, and right when she makes the decision to stand, her mouth falls open with Marian’s news. 

“Because I’m pregnant. And I wanted Roland to know he’s going to be a big brother,” she tells him, her voice challenging and rising in volume. 

It has the desired effect because Roland comes out of his room, and Lola, who’s remained a few feet behind Robin, looks over to the boy and pads over to him as he stands there, staring at his parents. “Mom?,” he asks bewildered, and Regina hears the sadness in his voice. It’s heartbreaking. 

“Roland!” Marian sighs and squats down, her arms open and extended, expecting her estranged son to run to her, to hug her, but Roland remains firmly in place. “My boy, you’re so big! Come here, aren’t you going to hug me? Wish Mommy a Merry Christmas?” 

Regina has had enough. The nerve of this woman. First she runs off with another man, never bothers to stay in touch with her son, and now, all of a sudden, shows up unannounced and expects Roland to go to her without any hesitation or confusion? She’s not sure where this overprotectiveness toward him comes from, but she finally stands and walks over to him, as her arm comes around his shoulder protectively as she stares Marian down boldly. 

“Really Robin? You had some woman sleep over, under the same room as my son?,” she says coolly, eyeing Regina critically, and when Robin turns, he’s happy to see her standing by his son, her arm around him in a display of unapologetic support and love. Despite the situation, it warms his heart and his love for Regina grows. 

“Not that it’s any of your business, Marian, but this isn’t  _ some woman _ ; this is my girlfriend, Regina,” he declares proudly, ignoring Roland’s gleeful whisper of ‘ _ I knew it!’ _ When his eyes meet Regina’s, they smile at each other, trying not to laugh at how this blatant admission of their relationship finally played out. “Regina, this is Marian, my ex and Roland’s mother.” 

“Pleasure,” Marian sneers then looks back at Roland. “Sweetie, Mommy has a special surprise for you. Don’t you want to know what it is?” 

Rooted to the spot, Roland looks at his father then back at his mother, shrugging halfheartedly. “I don’t know,” he mumbles 

“You’re going to be a big brother!” Marian shrieks excitedly. 

Roland’s face lights up as he looks up at Regina and says, “You and my dad are gonna have a baby?” 

Robin’s eyes close in frustration. Why did this woman choose to return  _ on this day _ , to come here and drop this literal bomb on them, ruining their holiday? His head angles up toward the ceiling in silent prayer before his gaze drops back to Regina, but just as she’s about to open her mouth to explain, Marian guffaws and says, “No sweetie,  _ I’m _ going to have a baby. Not… _ her _ .” To drive the point home, she lovingly rubs her abdomen and looks at her son expectantly, waiting for his reaction. It’s comical to watch her expression fall as the seconds tick by and Roland hasn’t said a word. 

Regina wants this moment to end for both of their sakes. Her thoughts are an echo of Robin’s, wondering why the hell anyone in their right mind would show up early on Christmas morning to drop information of this magnitude on them after being gone for so long. What did she expect would happen? That Roland would suddenly run to her, welcome her with open arms and feel excited about having a sibling? It dawns on her that the few things Robin previously shared with her about Marian possessing a selfish attitude are indeed an accurate representation of her character, rather than just comments made by a disgruntled and bitter, soon-to-be-ex husband. 

“Sweetie,” Marian coos again, trying to recover but failing miserably. “Do you know what this means? You’re going to be a big brother, you’ll have a family again! Doesn’t that make you happy?” 

Roland surprises everyone when he replies quietly, with the wisdom of someone with an old soul, “I already have a family. They’re all  _ here _ , in this house.” Then he looks over at Robin and asks, “Dad, can I go play with my new game now?” 

“Of course, Roland,” Robin whispers, as his son calls for Lola, who snorts and follows him to his room. 

Turning back to Marian, Robin asks, “Was there anything else, Marian?” He feels Regina standing behind him and he half turns and puts his arm around her waist, bringing her closer. 

Marian clicks her jaw at them, giving him a dirty look. “I’ve hired an attorney, Robin. I’ve got the divorce papers with me if you care to sign them.” 

He doesn’t miss Regina’s fingers pinching his shoulder lightly in warning. “Might you leave them? So that my attorney can also have a look at them? No offense, but I’d rather not blindly sign anything. You understand, I’m sure.” Rolling her eyes once more, she huffs irritably and pulls out a thick envelope from her purse, handing it to him. “Thank you.” 

The three stand there awkwardly, digesting what happened. Regina half expects her to make more trouble, but surprisingly Marian merely looks down the her nose at them, murmuring that that was fine, and to send the signed divorce decree to her at work whenever it was ready. She turns and walks off the porch into the cool morning air, as Robin closes his door and takes Regina’s hands in his, bringing them to his lips and dotting kisses along her fingers. “I’m so sorry you had to witness that babe,” he whispers. “I wish you hadn’t been here to see it. This isn’t where you need to be. 

Shaking her head, she says, “No, you’re wrong. I am  _ exactly _ where I’m supposed to be.” She gives him a quick kiss then she pulls back and asks, “I can’t go back to sleep now, not after that, so how about the breakfast you promised?”  

Robin’s arms go around her, his hands pressing her lower back tightly as he gives her a quick kiss. “Coming right up.” 

 

*.  *. *.  *

 

Regina ends up dozing on the couch lazily. It’s out of character for her, but the exhaustion finally caught up. She watches sleepily as Roland plays his new game with Robin, then Killian, as Lola lies beside her, head on her hip enjoying the absent-minded, leisurely strokes Regina makes along her head and snout. It’s nice to have salvaged the day after the bizarre morning they’d had. When she opens her eyes again, the television is off and the boys and her dog are nowhere to be found. A knit throw covers most of her body, and she pushes it off and stands, walking into the bathroom to freshen up. She smiles when she hears the laughter outside. It’s still not cold enough to light up the fire pit, but that doesn’t stop Roland from begging if they can roast marshmallows, which is what she hears when she steps out into the yard. 

Robin has set up a bullseye at one end of the yard and there’s a Nerf archery set resting on a lawn chair, all but forgotten as Roland runs around asking if they’ll please let him, just this one time,  _ pleeeease! _ It makes her laugh and when she does, they all look over, watching as Lola runs up and greets her happily. 

“Aw man! Did we wake you, Regi?” 

Shaking her head she says, “No sweetheart, it was time for me to get up anyway. But I have an idea. You want to roast marshmallows, right?” And he nods enthusiastically as she smiles, “However, it’s much too hot to light that pit right now, so why don’t we make s’mores inside?” 

“I’ve had s’mores before,” Roland says grinning. “At my friends’ party, you remember them? Sam and Deke?” She nods. “But Regi, they roasted them on fire. How do we make them inside?”

“Come with me, I’ll teach you,” she says as he follows her inside, Lola running up to join them. 

Robin’s been watching the scene unfold, and except for Marian’s unexpected visit this morning, he can’t complain about this day being anything other than perfect, relaxing even. He barely registers that Killian is suddenly behind him, asking, “You’ve got it bad, mate. I never saw you this way over Marian, not like you are with Regina.” When he turns to face him, he expects to see Killian smirking mockingly at him. Instead he looks genuinely pleased as he confesses, “I like her, a lot. She’s good for you, good for Roland. I didn’t know what to think after hearing all she’d done to you at work.”

Nodding, Robin says, “She’s not that person anymore. It’s a wonder to think back on those times and realize I had her pegged all wrong.”

“Are you in love with her, mate?” 

Robin’s hand comes up and runs through this hair. He  _ is _ completely and utterly in love with Regina, but he’s not about to blurt it out to Killian, not when he hasn’t acknowledged his feelings formally to  _ her _ , so he turns his back to his friend and busies himself with his yard, stepping away not only from his friend but from the question he knows the answer to but that he will not voice yet, not until he’s said it to Regina first. 

 

*.  *. *.  *

 

Robin had placed the divorce papers on the edge of the dresser in his room and when Regina walks in, she accidentally knocks the envelope to the floor. She bends to retrieve it, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She eyes the hallway, can’t see them but she hears Roland calling out excitedly that he’s winning as Killian tells him he’s gotten quite good and Robin calls back from the kitchen, “That’s my boy!” 

She sits on the edge of the bed, opens the flap, and pulls the papers out. 

It’s a standard dissolution of marriage petition. She’s seen several of these in the past. Her eyes scan the document, then freeze as she reads the stipulations, eyes narrowing at the words on the page as her fists clench. Words like  _ shall take possession of the family residence immediately  _ and  _ sole custody of minor son, Roland James Locksley, will be granted to the mother, Marian Elizabeth Locksley, with bi-weekly chaperoned visits with father, Robin Robert Locksley.   _

She is livid. Marian has been gone over a year, hasn’t so much as placed a phone call to find out how her son was doing, and now she’d hired some nitwit lawyer to draft this up? How dare she? It’s bad enough she wants Robin to hand over the house, but that she wants to take Roland makes her lips purse in anger. 

She’s mentally drafting out a response, but when she hears footsteps getting closer to the bedroom, she stuffs the papers back into the envelope angrily and tosses it onto Robin’s night stand, nostrils flaring. 

“Babe?” She looks up to see Robin standing in the doorway. 

“Yes?” 

“D’you want some popcorn too?” 

“No thank you,” she says and adds what she hopes is a reassuring smile. “I’ll be out in a second.” 

Robin tilts his head. “Everything alright?”

“Peachy,” she says flippantly. 

He waits a beat then retreats. She can hear his footsteps walking away followed by Roland’s cheerful  _ thanks Dad! _ She sighs and stands up, ready to walk back outside where everyone is, but when she reaches the door, Robin comes back into the room and shuts the door behind him. 

“What is it?,” he asks quietly. 

She bites her lip and says, “I read through some of the stipulations in Marian’s divorce petition.” 

“And?” 

Taking a deep breath, she tells him that Marian wants the house. “Fine,” he says. “We only moved into this house because she wanted it. I don’t care either way, so long as I’m with my son. She can bloody have it.” 

“That’s the problem, Robin. She’s also asking for custody.  _ Sole _ custody.” Regina has seen how messy these divorces have gotten, the kids becoming the unfortunate pawns  in their parents’ feud. Divorces asking for sole custody means this will be a long battle if she has any proof that Robin isn’t fit as a father and she is. She can gain sympathy from the court if she admits she’s pregnant. She can lie and say that Robin kept her away from Roland. Who knows. 

“That’s ridiculous. She can’t have Roland, she doesn’t give a bloody damn about him. He’s my son—”

“You’re right,” she placates, “He is your son. But I’ve seen these things get pretty nasty right away. She can request a psychologist to interview Roland, in an effort to try and manipulate him into saying that you didn’t let him see her.” 

“That’s fucking absurd, she had every right to see him whenever she wanted. I never said she couldn’t,” he growls.

Regina closes her eyes and asks, “Robin? Did she know what happened to you? That you were drinking heavily after she left, that had it not been for your friends, you were teetering on the edge of neglecting Roland? Does she know you’ve seen a therapist?”  

Robin exhales and narrows his eyes at her. “How did you know about all that? I never told you I’d seen a therapist.” His voice is low and there’s a flash of anger in his eyes. A thick vein protrudes from the side of his neck. 

She sits back down on the bed, as her hand reaches out for him, but Robin remains rooted to the spot. “John told me,” she sighs. 

His head hangs down low and he lets out a long breath. “I see,” he murmurs. “When?” 

Regina hasn’t taken her eyes off him, but her hand falls down on her lap as she answers. “Not long ago. Does it matter?” 

He walks over to the bed and sits down next to her. “I suppose it doesn’t,” he says taking her hand in his. “I didn’t tell you because I’m not proud of it,” he admits. “That was a difficult time in my life. I wasn’t in a good place. I would never neglect my son.” 

Squeezing his fingers, she murmurs, “I know that, Robin. I’m sorry if I sounded accusatory.” 

“Nonsense. I should have told you everything. I’m sorry you had to hear the story from John.” His fingers come up to thread through her hair as he leans in and kisses her softly. “I suppose I should hire an attorney,” he says. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll talk to Mal. We’ll have this taken care of. She’s not going to take the house, and she most certainly is not taking Roland,” she says, the last part comes out harshly, through her teeth. 

Robin stares at her in awe, his eyes darting all over her face before he pulls her against him and kisses her again. He wets his lips and he’s about to say it, it’s not as if he doesn’t feel it. He’s already so much as told her, but he hasn’t uttered those exact three words yet. He opens his mouth and she says, “You know, I could really use a drink. How about we get something for ourselves and then join your son in the living room?” 

And just like that, the moment passes by as Robin nods and stands, giving her another quick kiss before they exit the room. 

 

*.  *. *.  *

 

Will has been sitting in the rented car for hours the following night. He’s parked on the corner of the block where Regina Mills-Blanchard lives and has a clear view of the entrance. A group of older ladies had walked by his car, giving him curious glances. He waved politely, and raised the newspaper he pretended to read, giving them a friendly smile as if nothing were amiss. 

Regina Mills-Blanchard hadn’t come home all day, and he considers trying again tomorrow. He looks at his watch. It’s after seven, and the sky is almost completely dark. He scrolls through the contacts in his phone and hits Marco’s number. “Oi boss. I’ve been here since 4 and she isn’t home yet. There’s no sign of her.” 

He listens for a moment and reaches for a small notebook and pen in the glove compartment. “You didn’t mention she had a boyfriend. I suppose I should check there. Where should I go then?,” he asks and as he starts to write the number down, he stops, his eyes widening in recognition. He repeats the address back to his boss to confirm it then hangs up. “Fucking hell, Robin. What’ve you got yourself into?,” he says to himself as he drives off.   

  
  



	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up: This is the dirtiest smut I've written to date so don't clutch your pearls in shock saying I didn't warn you, haha. 
> 
> Thanks to Jess (babylawyer) for beta-ing this chapter.

It was late. John had come back to a sulking Killian and convinced him to go out for a beer. Killian had been moping the last few days, ever since he’d heard back from Emma. She’d told him she was going to give her ex, Neal, another chance. Robin and Regina felt bad for him, but there was nothing to be done. They’d ended things on friendly terms, and she’d even called Robin to ask if he still wanted to be her dance partner, but he declined apologetically, letting her know that right now his life was a bit complicated so he needed to put salsa dancing aside. 

Roland had fallen asleep slumped between them and Lola on the couch. The soft snore gave him away, making Robin laugh quietly. He carefully carried his son to his room and laid him down on his bed, while Lola jumped up on the bed after him, gently cuddling into his side, as his small hand came up to caress her fur, and her snout buried beneath his arm. 

Robin and Regina sat in bed together, the soft light from the lamps on each nightstand casting a comfortable, cozy glow around them, even as Marian’s divorce papers lay scattered between their thighs on the bed. Robin frowned at them, and taking one of the sheets Regina had been reading out of her hand, he gathered all the pages up into a messy stack, got out of bed and tossed them carelessly on the dresser. “I think it’s time we stopped reviewing that fucking petition, don’t you?,” he asked as he climbed back into bed and kissed her, prodding her lips gently with his tongue as she opened her mouth to meet his sensually, her body scooting down onto the pillow. 

As his lips explored her jaw and neck, he breathed her in and sucked at her pulse points. Regina pointed out breathlessly, “But Mr. Locksley, you wouldn’t want to be screwed over by your  _ soon-to-be-ex- _ wife, would you?” 

“Fuck her,” he said huskily into her neck then resumed sucking and kissing her. 

“No dear, I’d rather you fucked me,” she laughed and he pulled back and bit down on her shoulder playfully. But it was too hard. In warning, she smacked his shoulder and winced, “Ow! That hurt!” 

“I’m sorry darling,” he frowned, pressing kisses to the area, “I got carried away when you asked me to fuck you.” Smirking at her, he leaned back and asked intimately, “You didn’t enjoy that? Not even a little?” 

Regina smirked then reached for her glasses, but just as her fingers touched the frame, Robin’s hand shot up, taking hold of hers. “Leave them on. You know I find them utterly irresistible.”

“Yes, apparently enough to bite me,” she quipped making him arch an eyebrow at her as she laughed. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but I can’t tonight dear. It’s…that time of the month.” 

Robin slumped back onto his pillows and groaned. “If I told you it didn’t matter to me, would you be alright with it?” 

“Maybe. Maybe not. But I think we should take a raincheck tonight, don’t you?” 

“No,” he sighed. “But if that’s what you want, I’ll respect it.” 

Leaning toward him, she murmurs, “Thank you. You know I’m always a little worried Roland might wake up.” She gives him another kiss and with a sweet smile she takes her glasses of and folds them, placing them on the nightstand then turns back to her pillows and fluffs. “Night Robin,” she says softly. 

“Good night, love.”  

 

*.  *. *.  *

 

At first he can’t tell if it’s just his imagination, until he feels her tongue on his cock. The blankets have been pulled off his body, he feels them by his feet, and he can see Regina’s silhouette between his thighs in the bit of moonlight streaming in through the blinds. He gasps as her tongue glides wetly along his length, letting out a quiet moan when her lips wrap around his tip, sucking with gentle pressure. He can feel her hands on his thighs, her nails grazing them softly as she moves her mouth up and down his cock. 

She pulls his foreskin back gently and flutters her tongue beneath his tip, then takes his cock in her hand, her fingers stroking him from base to tip. The sensations of her hot, wet tongue, along with her fingers, gliding and stroking his length elicit a loud moan from him, so he grabs a pillow and holds it over his mouth. Regina angles her head so she can take him deeper, and when she does he hisses her name in pleasure, then hears her chuckle softly in the darkness. 

The palm of her other hand gently massages his balls as her tongue and fingers continue to work and stroke his length. Robin sits up on his elbow so he can watch her. He loves to watch her, but the bloody room is still so dark, so he reaches for the nightstand and turns the lamp on to it’s softest setting, and a warm glow falls around the room. He can now see Regina’s toned arms and shoulders, while the tips of her hair fall in waves near his hip when she goes down. 

Looking up at him she winks before taking his cock deeply again. Robin gasps when he feels his tip hit her throat, and when she swallows around him, it takes everything in his power not to moan loudly, hissing  _ fuck, Regina  _ instead. 

Her lips and his shaft glisten with spit in the light, and her fingers are wet. “That feels amazing— _ ahhh _ —you’re so amazing, love,  _ mmmh, hmmm, _ don’t stop,” he whispers quietly, gasping. 

Regina starts to speed up, her fingers moving quicker and her tongue sucks him firmly as her cheeks hollow out. Robin falls back on his pillows and gently takes hold of her head in his hands, his fingers scratch her scalp lightly as he breathes through it, breathes through her sucking him off. “I’m close,” he rasps in warning, and it only makes her suck him faster. “ _ Ahhh, ahhh, mmmnnhhh _ , babe…I’m… _ I’m gonna come _ ,” he says, then grabs the edge of his pillow and puts it over his face so it swallows his load moans. When he tries to pull her off, she pushes his hand away as she sucks and sucks, taking everything he gives her. 

Her tongue is glorious, licking every drop. And although it’s becoming too much, he’s sensitive, he’s also fighting through it because not only is the feeling incredibly sensual, Regina looks proud of herself. 

They’d never done  _ this _ before, and he hadn’t wanted to ask what she thought about it. Some women were particular about it. Marian had swallowed his come twice during their entire relationship before admitting one night that she hated it and that, if it was alright with him, she was more than happy to suck him off then stop just before he came and finish him off with her hands. 

Ironically, it was Regina who behaved more prudish to the casual observer, but he thanked his lucky stars that she wasn’t very shy when it came to sex, and she obviously enjoyed pleasing him. 

“Well, look who’s finally woken up,” she smiled as she rose between his legs, her breasts moving to and fro, the stiff peaks poking the fabric of her satin nightgown. 

“That was by far the  _ best _ way to wake up, babe,” he said smiling as his hand came up to caress her cheek. “Come here.” He kissed her deeply, not caring that she’d just swallowed him. He loved her, all of her, everything about her. Suddenly he wanted to tell her, but when he pulled away from her lips, she looked at him sadly. 

“I don’t deserve you, you know,” she murmured. 

Tugging the sheet up over them, he turned to face her, propping his head up on an elbow. “Why would you say, or even think that, hmm?”

Shrugging one shoulder, she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and whispers, “I don’t know.” Then she clears her throat and looks up into his blue eyes and smiles. “I just never thought I’d have this. I certainly never had it with Leo.” 

Robin’s finger comes up under her chin and lifts it. “I’m still confused how that translates to you not deserving me.”

“It’s…” She takes a deep breath, then kisses him chastely. “I have so much going on right now, Robin. My life is a literal mess. I’ve got some relative I’ve never even heard of apparently tracking me down, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out why. I’ve got my former husband’s lawyer threatening me, only now I get a brief reprieve since he’s been hospitalized, and I don’t know why but I keep thinking the two are related and…” 

Robin’s hands come up and cradle her face before he plants another kiss on her lips, then her forehead. “Babe, everyone comes with some kind of baggage. Only first loves don’t have them. You’re not the only one. I mean, look at this mess with Marian now—the nerve of her showing up here, wanting to lay claim to everything, including my son, after she’s been gone for so long. We all have problems.” When she raises an eyebrow at him, he chuckles and goes on, “True, some of us have  _ a bit more _ than others. But darling, that doesn’t mean you’re less deserving of happiness—of love, yeah? If anything, you’re  _ more _ deserving. So, no more of this nonsense talk, alright?” She nods as his fingers caresses her cheek and they kiss. “Now then, when exactly will you be done with your period?” 

Smiling at him, she asks, “Why do you want to know?” 

“Because babe, I’m going to make sure I ravage you until you’re a writhing mess,” he says smugly. “I’ll have you screaming my name yet.” 

“Someone’s sure of himself,” she deadpans, making him laugh. “It’ll be over in a couple of days. Until then,  _ that _ should tide you over,” she adds glancing down at his manhood. 

“Ah, I see. And what if it doesn’t?”

“Well then, I’ll just have to take care of you again, won’t I?,” she chuckles darkly and licks her lip as she raises an eyebrow. Robin laughs and bites his bottom lip. 

There’s a shift between them, something changes though neither of them is quite sure what and just as Robin’s about to say something, Regina whispers, “I think we should get some rest. Roland will be up in a few hours and I’ll need to go home later.” 

“Must you?” 

“Robin, I’m out of clothes and I want to get Lola’s other leash. This one’s kind of dingy.” 

“You can always do your laundry here.” 

“I know, but I um… I just…” 

Touching her arm, he asks, “What is it? You can tell me.”

She shakes her head and says, “I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but I…miss being home. I never thought I’d feel that way, but it’s been my place for years. And now, even if it’s in limbo, and I don’t know what I’m going to do with the Midtown penthouse, I just…feel like  _ that’s _ where my life is. Hey,” she caresses his face as it falls, his expression failing to remain neutral and understanding turns into a sad, hurt pout. “This has nothing to do with you. It’s me. You know, you and Roland could always stay over there if you wanted, whenever you wanted to.” 

“I know. I just love having you  _ here _ is all. But you’re right. We’ll discuss this another time, love. Let’s get some rest, yeah?,” he says, reaching over to turn off the lamp, as the darkness surrounds them once more. He pulls the duvet over the cool sheets on their bodies and spoons her snugly, his arm wrapping around her waist, giving her shoulder one last kiss before they both drift off to sleep within minutes of each other. 

Regina doesn’t hear Robin when he whispers  _ I love you. _

 

*.  *. *.  *

 

The next day, she kisses both Robin and Roland goodbye and heads home with Lola. The weather is beautiful. The humidity is low and the air is cool so she opens the sunroof and lets her hair blow freely in the wind as she drives toward Cocoplum. Her face is freshly moisturized, devoid of makeup, and she’s wearing her favorite large Chanel sunglasses and some lip balm. She feels totally relaxed and at ease for once, despite everything that’s happening.

_ It’s thanks to Robin and Roland being in your life. You opened yourself up to love and look at the transformation. You’ve never loved like this before. _

Wait, what? Where did that come from? _You love him—you_ love both of them _. Admit it. You’ve known this for some time now._

She brushes the thoughts off, smiling at herself. She’ll admit her feelings when the timing is right. Now that she’s got both Robin and Roland in her life, she can’t imagine them not being a part of it. 

She arrives at home in a great mood, and Lola runs in ahead of her. Traffic had been fairly light, and this was one of those days that didn’t make her wish she lived in another city. The mild warmth making it pleasantly tolerable.

Upon entering her home, her nose scrunched up. It had that distinct odor of a house that’s been closed up and lifeless for several days. She goes from room to room turning on the ceiling fans and opening a few of the back doors to let in some air. Walking into her bedroom, she pulls the clothing out of her bag and tosses them into the basket, then carries it with her to the laundry room. She hears Lola barking in the distance but she’s so caught up in thinking of Robin and some legal documents she’d asked Mal to draft that she doesn’t hear the footsteps until it’s too late and when she turns, the basket of clothes falls to the floor as she lets out a loud scream. 

Mal stares at her looking bored. “Really Regina, I realize I’m scary to most people, but am I really so terrible as to warrant you shrieking like a lunatic? You sounded like Rochester’s wife.” 

Regina’s hand comes up, pressing over her heart as she howls, “ _ YOU SCARED ME HALF TO DEATH, MAL!”  _ Then, taking a few deep breaths, she says in a normal tone, “You rarely make house calls and I’ve never known you to be out and about before noon. I’m sorry,” she adds when Mal looks affronted. “I wish you’d called or texted me is all, so I’d known to expect you.”

“I got your message and wanted to see you. It’s about Robin’s divorce. I’m swamped and won’t have time to handle it.”

Regina nods as she picks up the clothes and tosses them into the washer, before adding the detergent. Mal watches her curiously but continues, “If Robin’s fine with it, I’d like Kathryn Nolan to represent him. Unfortunately she’s out of town for the holidays but he should definitely reach out to her after the new year.” 

Regina says nothing just nods and continues working on her task as Lola sashays into the laundry room and lays down in a patch of sun on the tiles near their feet. “Regina, I’m sorry for startling you. But lately, we haven’t spent much time together the way we used to, and…I’ve missed you. Ever since you got together with Robin, I barely see you anymore,” she pouts. 

Regina turns and looks at Mal, rolling her eyes in the process. “So you show up in my home unannounced and scare me?” 

“Oh come on. Don’t be mad. Why don’t you tell me what’s really got you on edge?,” she asks and smiles, making Regina smirk in return. 

“Is it too early for a drink?” 

“Possibly. But we can make an exception for mimosas, wouldn’t you agree?” Mal asks and pulls her other arm forward. It’s not until then that Regina notices she’d been holding it behind her back this entire time, and that she’s got a bottle of champagne in it. 

“I’d say it’s a good thing I brought home some orange juice last week,” she says and they laugh, walking to the kitchen together, as Lola looks after them and lays her head down happily. 

 

*.  *. *.  *

 

Two mimosas later, and a spread of water crackers, cheese cubes, grapes, and almonds half eaten before them, Mal sits back and observes her friend, her eyes narrowing. “I haven’t seen you like this in years, Regina. I think I’ll have to give this Robin my stamp of approval.”

“Oh, please. Since when do I require your approval, or  _ anyone’s _ approval for that matter?” 

Mal chuckles and says, “You don’t. You never did. I’m just happy to see that you’re happy, dear. Truly. You deserve it.” Lifting her glass she clinks it against Regina’s as they both sip. 

Regina’s never been one to gush to friends about her life, much less about her personal life, but she can feel her cheeks redden and decides to ignore it. Should Mal happen to bring it up, she’ll blame the alcohol. In the meantime, she resolves to have a little fun. She’s still annoyed that Mal scared the shit out of her.  

Licking her lips, she says conspiratorially, “It’s not  _ just _ Robin, you know. There’s another man in my life.” She pauses to watch Mal’s reaction, and she takes another sip of her mimosa as Mal murmurs  _ really? _ Regina hums and says, “Yes. He’s the sweetest thing ever. I love him to bits.” 

Mal’s eyebrows raise. “And who might this fellow be? Anyone I know?”

Regina shakes her head and says, “I doubt you’d know him.” Then shrugs and adds, “His name’s Roland,” smiling when Mal’s jaw falls open. 

“Doubling up on the dating game, Regina? I’m very impressed. How did you meet this new man, Roland?” 

It’s getting harder for her to keep a straight face, and she lets out a faint snicker when she says, “Through Robin.” 

Mal looks positively aghast and Regina wishes she’d been recording her reaction. 

“Darling, you’re turning into  _ me _ . Aren’t you worried that things might become, I don’t know…complicated?,” Mal asks. “You’ve never been one to…multitask.” 

Regina shakes her head once more and simply says, “Nope,” purposefully emphasizing the  _ P _ then bites her lip to keep from laughing.

“Well, I think we should have another drink,” she says pouring them both champagne, filling each glass about three quarters of the way and adding only a splash of orange juice to top them off. “To Robin. And to Roland,” she adds, holding her glass up.  

They take another hearty sip and Regina resists the urge to laugh out loud again when Mal sips her drink, hums, and asks, “So, what does this Roland do for a living?” 

And that does it. Her cheeks immediately start to tremble and in a few seconds she’s doubled over in laughter. Mal looks at her in disbelief and murmurs  _ Regina? _ And then her eyes go wide. “Wait a minute— _ ROLAND is ROBIN’S SON?!, _ ” she screams and Regina nearly falls out of her chair, howling with laughter. She hasn’t had this good a laugh in forever, and since she can’t answer, she just nods and wipes the tears from her eyes as Mal swats her thighs playfully. “Oh, you bitch,” she says, laughing along with her. 

They settle down and Regina takes another drink of her mimosa as Mal narrows her eyes at her again, scrutinizing. “You didn’t deny it, you know.” 

Regina hums in confusion. “Didn’t deny what?” 

“Your feelings,” Mal says quietly as a smile softly breaks out across her lips. “Your  _ moving on _ after Leo has been a long time coming.” 

“Except what real future do we have, Mal? With Leo’s will binding me, keeping me stuck where I am?” 

“We’re going to find a way. Oh, have you heard the news about Spencer Gold? I nearly threw a party at his misfortune.” 

Regina smirks at her friend. “I did. I saw the broadcast the night it happened. It’s terrible.”

“Regina dear, you’ve grown soft.” 

Ignoring her, Regina says, “You want to hear something weird?” 

“Always,” Mal says interested, and leans forward as if they weren’t in the privacy of Regina’s home. 

“There was a man, accompanying Gold’s wife, Belle, at the hospital,” Regina starts and Mal leans back in her seat, staring at her indifferently. “His name’s Will Scarlet, and he’s Robin’s stepbrother.” 

Mal blinks, half interested. “Really? I didn’t pay much attention to anything else since I was much happier hearing about Gold’s assault, if I’m honest. The man’s a sleaze. Does Robin know the Golds?”

“No,” Regina says shrugging her shoulders. “He was surprised to see Will with her at the hospital.” 

“Perhaps it’s only a coincidence,” Mal offers and Regina nods, humming noncommittally. “Anyway, I do have other  _ interesting _ conversation to share: Victoria started up with Isaac again.” Mal hides her chuckle behind her fingers when Regina groans, “Again? What is this like the sixth time in the last two years?”

“Try ninth,” Mal snickers. “She says she’s done but I had dinner with the girls a few nights ago and Vic didn’t show up because she was otherwise occupied.” Victoria and Isaac Heller had been doing this dance for a long time. They usually broke up in dramatic fashion, or at least that’s how Vic would tell the story, often culminating in her throwing a drink in his face. Vic would then swear to each of her friends she was through with him, until one of them—often Isaac—would contact the other and they’d end up in the sack again. The cycle had been going on for a while. 

Rolling her eyes, Regina takes another sip of mimosa. She doesn’t want to talk about them so instead asks, “How are Ursula and Ingrid?” 

“Dandy. You should join us the next time we have dinner.” 

Smiling, Regina says she’d like that and Mal smirks. “That is, if Robin  _ and _ Roland let you out of their sights for a minute.” Regina stares her down making Mal laugh, as she adds that she was joking. 

They spend the next hour catching up before Mal hugs her goodbye and reminds her about the clothes still in the washer. After she leaves, the house seems so empty and much too quiet so Regina takes her cellphone from the counter, and unplugging it from the charge, sends Robin a text.

_ How would you and Roland like to spend the night here? _

Within seconds, three small dots appear on her screen indicating he’s typing a response and then his message pops up on her screen. 

_ It sounds wonderful, love, only it’d just be me. _

Frowning, she types: 

_ Oh? I don’t remember Roland having other plans. _

_Trina and John offered to take him to the movies then out for pizza._ _Apparently Trina’s just adopted a kitten and Roland begged for a_

_ sleepover. You know it’s almost impossible to say no to my son. _

_ Yes, I know about his charms.  _

_ So when would you want me there? _

_ Come over whenever you like. I’ll make shrimp linguini for dinner. _

_ Shall I bring some wine? _

_ Please. White. X _

The dots appear on the screen, then vanish as Regina looks down at her phone. After a couple of minutes, she types out:

_ Robin? _

_ Yes my queen? _

It shouldn’t make her laugh but it does because it’s silly but sweet. Robin makes her feel so good even when he’s just humoring her. 

It’s a passing thought. Her mind whispers  _ I love you _ but Regina shakes it off and quickly sends one last text. 

_ Drive safely. _

_ I will, love. See you in a bit. _

 

*.  *. *.  *

 

After their meal, he stood and took their plates to the sink, rinsing them off before stacking them neatly in the dishwasher. With the bottle of wine carefully tucked under one arm, he took their wine glasses in each hand and winked at her, motioning she follow him to her bedroom. Smirking, she follows and watches him put the glasses and bottle down on a table near the window. He silently walks into her en suite bathroom, and she hears the water running, knows he’s filling the bathtub. Standing at the doorway, she says, “You know, it’s not safe to get in the water right after a meal, right?” He’s been lighting some of the candles she’s got on the edge and by the window sill and she unabashedly looks at his ass.  

“That’s only for swimming, babe. We’re just going to have a nice soak. Now strip, please,” he adds before turning. 

As he stands, he starts to unbutton his shirt, dropping it to the floor as Regina shamelessly looks at his chest, admiring the view. “See something you like?” 

“I see a lot of things I like,” she purrs and starts to strip slowly for him, her fingers deliberately moving sensually over newly bared skin, her eyes never leaving his. Once nude, they gravitate toward each other and he holds her close to him, his arms wrap around her lovingly but she steps back, pushing against him and murmurs, “I’ll be right back.” Robin looks at her curiously but nods, and watches her walk out. She returns a few minutes later, her hair tied up in a loose ponytail, and looking a little embarrassed as his arm extends out, reaching for her. 

When their fingers meet, he pulls her closer and kisses her tenderly. “Everything alright?,” he wonders as his fingers push back a stray tendril from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. 

“Yes. I uh… Just had to…remove the…” 

Robin looks confused for a moment then it dawns on him. She’s still having her period, which was the whole reason he drew them a bath in the first place. He’d been so distracted watching her undress, he’d momentarily forgotten. “Say no more babe, you’ve nothing to worry about. Come inside. I want you to enjoy this. You prepared us a lovely meal. Now it’s my turn to do something just for you.” 

The fragrances of vanilla and lavender oils lull her into relaxation, and the thick bubbles look inviting. The water is the perfect temperature between hot and warm but not scalding, as Regina lowers her body down into the large jacuzzi tub. Robin steps in and sits gently behind her. He starts to rub her back in circles using a thick washcloth lathered with a small bit of her body wash, going over her shoulders before cupping his other hand in the water and rinsing off the soap, dotting kisses along her wet skin. 

It’s all innocent but still very sensual, as his hands wash her arms, and legs, inside her thighs. When Robin spends a little too much time making sure her breasts are thoroughly clean, his kisses grow more heated. He bites the curve of her neck, gently nibbles her earlobe and lets the washcloth sink down to the floor of the tub, as his fingers tug at and tweak one stiff nipple while his other hand wanders below the water as he starts to lazily rub her clit. 

“We can’t,” she sighs, her eyes closing as her head falls back on his shoulder. 

“We’re not doing anything, babe. I just want to make you feel good,” he murmurs in her ear as his finger dips into her center and she sighs contentedly as he begins to move it in and out, his thumb brushing her clit to and fro. She lets out little mewls of pleasure, as her hips start to rock. Robin adds a second finger, and though he’s loathe to leave her nipple, he needs his other hand to dip down between her legs, switching them so he can finger her as he rubs her clit. His tongue swirls in circles along her moist skin as Regina says, “Harder, go faster Robin,  _ please _ . Deeper… _ ahhh, ahhh!!, _ ” almost screaming at him when he stops altogether, but he doesn’t make her wait very long. Instead, he kneels and grabs her waist and pulls her up so she’s also kneeled in front of him, closer so her ass is flush with his cock. He gently spreads her cheeks and let’s the shaft of his cock rest between them but not penetrating. He’s so close to her hole but he knows better than to just slip it in devil-may-care, and catch her off-guard or worse, have her make his stop this altogether, so instead he listens and watches the way her body reacts to where his is, taking note that she hasn’t stopped him yet. 

He asks, “Is this alright?,” as his hands return to her center, fingers easily slipping inside as he strokes her clit with his other hand. Her moans are his only answer as she starts to rock against his fingers again, and he angles his arm further so he can hit her deeper. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but she’s getting louder and tighter so he knows she’s close. His cock is twitching, slipping between her warmth and wetness, wanting to penetrate either one of her holes at this point, and he’s certain he doesn’t care which but he forces himself to take deep calming breaths to slow down, to remind himself that this is strictly for  _ her _ . 

Robin’s not sure how or when it happens but his tip slips to her hole and it starts rub against it. When he tries to adjust himself, Regina shakes her head and hoarsely says, “No. Stay.” 

“You want me here tonight?,” he rasps softly, a bit shocked when she whispers  _ uh huh _ . He shifts back and adjusts his position, leaving her for a moment. 

Regina looks over her shoulder at him when he pushes her forward. “Get on all fours, darling,” watching as white soapy foam gathers around her nipples, as bubbles cascade down her arms and thighs in slow wet trails. 

“If you want me to stop, just say the word,” he rasps then sucks on his finger before he places it on her puckered hole and softly begins to massage around it. 

“ _ Mmmm, Robin _ ,” she moans as her head falls forward. He goes slowly, dips the tip of his finger in her opening then pulls her cheeks apart. Gathering the wetness from her lips, he brings them up to her opening again before pushing the tip of his finger in further to the first knuckle. “ _ Unngh! Aaagghh!  _ Don’t stop, that feels good, _ so good, _ ” she moans and pushes back toward him, his finger slipping in a little deeper. Her ass is so tight, and Robin thinks his cock might explode. He focuses on her though, asking if she’s okay, if it’s hurting her. Regina shakes her head and pushes back against him, tells him to keep going. Robin continues taking it very slowly until his finger is fully buried inside her and then begins to move both hands in sync, penetrating both her holes at the same time. She’s gloriously wet, and he knows she’s enjoying it until she stills and says, “Robin?” 

He slows his movement down and asks, “Yes?” 

“I’m still blee—” 

“You’re fine, babe. Just relax and enjoy,” he assures her, placing tender kisses on her shoulder, and spine. Saliva pools in his mouth as he watches himself finger both holes, and he quietly spits some of it over her hole, adding extra lubrication and creating smoother friction as his finger glides in and out of her ass. “This alright?,” he rasps, but Regina cries out in pleasure. “You feel so good, so tight around my fingers. Are you close?” 

She’s started rocking against him again, and they ignore the water splashing onto the floor. “Uh huh. Don’t stop, babe, keep going, please,  _ gahh _ , fuck me,  _ fuuuck meee _ ,” she moans, and his fingers start to move quicker, deeper. He takes it easy on her ass. He doesn’t know whether or not she’s done anything like this before, but he does add a third finger to the ones in her cunt, and when he finds her spot, the pads of his index and middle fingers drag firmly and deliciously against the textured wall making her whimper.

“Rub your clit for me, darling,” he rasps, and her hand goes between her legs where she’s slick. He makes her feel so good. Sharing these intimate moments with Robin allows her to forget her worries, her fears. “It’s just us, babe, let go. You feel so warm, so wet. There, that’s it, babe,” he murmurs when he feels her walls begin to tighten around him. 

“Faster,” she cries out between breathy moans, and he obeys, hitting her deeper and speeding up his thumps against her spot. The orgasm hits her hard, her body spasming and rocking as Robin continues moving his fingers in tandem, slowing the one in her ass down to barely any movement, but letting her ride out her orgasm on his other hand. The way he’s fingering her allows the sensations to feel like they’re being dragged out, and her orgasm lasts a long time. Regina doesn’t know how long it goes on for, but she’s parched and in need of water by the time it’s over. Robin carefully and very slowly removes his finger from her ass as his other fingers slip out with ease now that her walls have stopped quivering around them. She falls back against his chest, her arm reaching behind her and she pulls his head down to hers for a sloppy kiss that’s all tongues and awkward angles. 

Robin’s hands feel around the bottom of the tub for the washcloth and when he finds it, he cleans his finger without a word. And then the tension of the moment breaks and they share a laugh and she turns, both of them oblivious to the mess of soapy water that’s gathered around the tub. He sits back down in the water, sighing in relief to be off his knees. She sits down before him as well, her legs wrapping around either side of him as her hands cradle his face, and she smiles sweetly, her fingers scratching his wet scruff, as their eyes never leaving one another. It’s very intimate.  

They each have the passing thought that this is it, this is  _ the _ moment. Robin holds her waist, his fingers flex on her skin and he starts. “I…” 

But Regina doesn’t let him finish, just shushes him then takes his lips in another kiss before breaking away, her forehead resting against his as she sighs, “I know.” 

After trading a few more lazy kisses, she asks him to stand as she returns to her knees. Before he can argue that she doesn’t have to do this, her tongue circles around the head of his cock, and she torturously takes his thick shaft between her lips, angling her head as she goes further, taking him in deep. 

“Regina,” he moans in pleasure when he hits the back of her throat as her hands come up and caress his ass, taking each cheek firmly in her hands and using the motion to press him in deeper. Robin’s hands fall to either side of her head as he begins to fuck her mouth in earnest, groaning every time she angles her head and takes him deeper, letting his cock hit the back of her throat as she breathes through her nose, ignoring her gag reflex. He pauses, looks down inquisitively at her, but she smiles back, letting him know she’s perfectly fine. 

She loves doing this for him, loves how he shows her how much he cares by always taking her cues. She especially loves how he reacts to her. She may be on her knees but he’s the one at her mercy and they both know it. Squeezing his ass, she pumps him in and almost entirely out of her mouth as his hands move her head to an angle on every downward stroke of her lips and tongue. “Fuck,” he rasps, “Take me deeper, babe.” He looks down into her chocolate eyes and she complies with his request, sucking him in all the way until her lips touch his wet hair. She moves up and down his shaft, sucking harder as her cheeks hollow when she pulls back. “That’s it. I love the way you suck my cock, babe.”  

She winks then lets go of his cock and taking her breast in one hand, she runs the nipple along his shaft, teasing him before sticking her tongue out to lick the same line before she sucks his entire cock into her mouth again. 

Bending forward, his hand takes hold of that same breast as his fingers tease the nipple, twirling it until it’s a stiff, pebbled point. “Let me suck on you,” he murmurs, and helps her stand before bending over to suckle first one breast and then the other, as his fingers come up and brush along her engorged clit again. 

“ _ Robinnn _ ,” she sighs when he slips his finger into her center again. Her hand comes up around his cock. She starts to pump him as he’s feasting on her, his finger sliding in and out, as his thumb rubs her clit. “This was… _ ahhh! _ …supposed to be— _ mmmh! _ —your turn,” she admonishes breathily, her skin prickling against his scruff as he chuckles into her chest. 

“It  _ is _ my turn, love,” he insists, then takes her nipple between his teeth, as his lips close around her areola. He slips another finger into her center and she cries out when he starts to hit that spot inside her again, making her writhe and squirm. She’s close again, so close. 

Her hand continues to pump him and the faster she goes, the harder he sucks, alternating between each nipple now, teasing each one with his teeth before flicking it with his tongue. He growls, “I want to fuck you. I need to be inside you.”

Without waiting for an answer, he takes her hand and steps out of the tub first, leading her to her bed, but first he reaches into the linen closet on the way and pulls out a thick plush towel, which he lays on her bed. By now it’s mostly their legs that are still wet from the bath and some strands of her hair, but it’s not the water they’re worried about. 

“Hands and knees, darling. I’m going to fuck you from behind,” he orders after kissing her deeply. She moans and bends over, angling her ass toward him and she shakes it playfully as he takes his cock in his hand and slips it inside her with absolutely no resistance. They both groan in unison at the sensation. “That’s it, babe. God, you feel  _ so good, mmmmhh _ ,” he says and starts to rock into her, one hand on her waist, the other on her shoulder, pulling her back on his cock as he pumps into her, his ass clenching and flexing with every thrust. Soon the hand that was on her waist slips up to rub and twist her nipple as he firmly holds her shoulder, their bodies slapping against each other. 

“Robin,” she moans. “I’m close again.” 

“Touch yourself, love. Rub that glorious little nub and don’t stop until you come. I want to feel you milking my cock.” 

“Yes, Robin, fuck me, fuck me  _ hard _ ,” she cries out as he speeds up, hitting her deeply, making them both groan. Moving both hands to her waist, he watches as one hand goes between her legs to her clit, watches as she starts to rub it, as her head lulls from side to side. They’re both lost in the moment, in how they’re bodies are making each other feel. 

She cries out his name again, his only warning before he feels her tighten around his cock, gripping it as he continues to slide in and out deeply, and she’s whimpering  _ I’m coming, I’m coming _ . And when his own orgasm hits him hard and he sighs, “Regina… Ahh, babe…” as he continues pumping his cock into her, coating her walls with his come.

When he lets her go, she rests her upper body on her arms, her ass jutting up in the air for a moment, which makes Robin chuckle as he joins her on the bed lying down. When she finally settles down beside him, his arms wrapping around her and he places a soft kiss on the tip of her nose before pecking her lips. 

“That was,” he starts. 

Her smirk makes him smile as she nods her head lazily, bites her bottom lip and says, “Mmm-hmm.” 

“Are you relaxed, darling?,” he asks as he continues to dot kisses on her shoulder and cheek. 

“ _ Very _ . How about you?” 

“I feel like a king,” he admits happily, making her laugh, his own eyes crinkling at the edges when he gives her a lopsided grin. “Why don’t you get some rest, love? I’ll clean up in the bathroom.” 

“That sounds lovely, but I do need to clean myself up first,” she says, looking a little embarrassed. 

“Hey,” he says softly, his knuckles caressing her cheek. “You’ve nothing to worry about with me, alright? I wanted to make you feel good and it seems I succeeded.” 

“Well, we both got something out of it,” she smiles and kisses him.  

“True,” he says when he pulls back. “But we’re not keeping score now, are we?” 

_ Mmm-mmm _ , she sighs, shaking her head sleepily at him. They continue to trade soft, lazy kisses for a few minutes before she inhales sharply and pushes his shoulder. She says she’s getting up because if she doesn’t get up now, she’s going to fall asleep like this and that just won’t do. Robin kisses her one more time then watches as she gets out of bed, his eyes roaming over her backside and he thinks to himself what a lucky bastard he is.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my long absence from this story. I've had several issues come up all at once, but I won't go into all that stuff. Instead, I'll just give a big shoutout of gratitude to Jess aka babylawyer for the beta edits and for her awesome suggestions.

Robin’s cell phone woke them up the next morning. He let go of Regina groaning and reached over to see who was calling so early. When he saw it was half past nine and it was his son, he cleared his throat then swiped to answer.

Without so much as a good morning or a hello, Roland immediately began his pitch. “Dad! Can we please, please, please get a kitten? Trina says I’m old enough to get one and that I’m responsible and that they’re not that hard to care for and easy to train to use the litterbox, and Dad they are just so CUTE. So please, please, can we get one? _Pleeeease_?!”

Looking over her shoulder Regina cups her mouth trying to suppress her laughter. Robin winks and playfully pinches her rear, then says to his son, “Good morning Roland. How nice of you to call just to see how your dear old dad is doing today.”

“Sorry Dad,” he sighs into the phone. “Good morning. How are you?”

Trying to suppress his own laughter, Robin quips that he’s fine. “How was your night?”

“Trina and John took me to the movies and then we went for pizza. We got the Big Man Special! It’s too bad you weren’t with us,” he says. “Are you at home?”

“No, Regina and I decided to stay at her house last night,” he tells his son. “Did you thank John and Trina for their hospitality? And mind your manners at the theater, then at dinner?”

“Yes Dad, I always remember to do it just like you taught me: say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and all that stuff,” Roland says seriously, and Regina curls up into Robin’s side as his hand comes up and rubs her shoulder.

He smiles. “That’s wonderful, Roland. I’m glad you had a great time and didn’t give them any trouble. Would you put Trina on the line for me, please? We will discuss the kitten later.”

Roland says _sure_ a little dejectedly, but Robin hears him call Trina’s name, then waits for her to come on the line.

“Morning Robin,” she says happily.

“Good morning to you too. Should I be worried now that my son is obsessed with getting a kitten?”

“I think it’d be great for him, but I did tell him that if you said no, he had to respect your decision and I’d be more than happy to let him come over and visit any time he’d like.”

“Thanks Trina. I’ll be by in about an hour or two to pick him up.”

“There’s no hurry, take your time. John and I were actually going to go to brunch in a little while and take Roland with us, and if he wants, we’ll stop by at the park and let him play a while.”

“Trina, thanks but you’ve done enough—”

“Stop. I can tell you’re just waking up, your voice is groggy. Relax. Have some coffee and breakfast yourself and then we’ll drop him off at home this afternoon, Don’t worry about us,” she assures then adds, “Oh and Robin? Say hi to Regina for me.” 

“Thank you Trina,” he says gratefully. “I will and I’ll see you later.”

Tossing the phone back onto the nightstand, he turns to Regina, kisses her and whispers good morning.

“You sleep okay?,” she asks, her voice also raspy with sleep.

“I always sleep perfectly when I’m with you,” he says planting another kiss on her bare shoulder before stretching and getting out of bed. “I’ll start the coffee and let Lola out,” he calls as he walks out of her bedroom.

She lays there, smiling at nothing and basking in contentment, which is something she hasn’t felt in a long time before the last six or seven weeks. Stretching herself, she arches her back and it pops softly as she rises and steps into her slippers, her satin robe cascading delicately over her body. She’d slept in a little silk camisole and matching panties. She wonders if the coffee will be enough this morning, as she considers having another quick shower after breakfast. Assuming Robin doesn’t insist on joining me, that is, she muses silently and continues to smile like a goofball, as she walks toward the kitchen where the aroma of freshly brewing coffee greets her before she’s made it.

She can hear Robin calling to Lola, telling her to go find her spot, making her chuckle at the ease with which he fits into their lives. Pulling a mug from one of the cupboards, she fills hers up three quarters of the way then pours a splash of cream in it before relishing that first sip that makes her tongue tingle and she almost groans in gratitude.

“Ahhh,” she sighs happily instead, just as Robin’s walking into the kitchen making him give her the dopiest grin, matching her own she’s sure. “What?”

“Nothing at all, love,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “You look beautiful this morning.”

“Doubtful,” she scoffs, “I’m probably a mess.” As she says it, she pulls a mirror out of her purse to look at her reflection and grimacing when she sees she’s developed a tiny blemish on her chin overnight. The joys of womanhood. When would this end? Her teenage years were long gone.

Regina’s so busy analyzing herself she doesn’t notice Robin’s arms as they wrap around her waist. In her ear, he whispers, “Nonsense. You’re gorgeous no matter the time of day.” Taking the mirror out of her hand and dropping it back into her purse, he spins her around for another kiss and then picks her up and sits her on the counter, making her say his name in surprise.

“I thought I’d make us breakfast,” he says between kisses, keeping them chaste.

“And you’d like me to sit here?”

“If you’re alright with it,” he says against her neck, his voice muffled.

Furrowing her eyebrows, she asks, “Why not at the table?”

But instead of an answer, he steps back and turns to her refrigerator to pull out a glass container full of fresh cut strawberries, another with cantaloupe, and a whole wheat English muffin with some sugar free preserves. When she starts to ask again, he silences her with a finger over her lips, then kisses her once more chastely before slicing the muffin and placing it into the toaster.

The containers of fruit are already open and he takes a piece of strawberry between his fingers. “You’re overdressed,” he says accusingly, making her smirk. He pulls at the sash holding her robe closed until it falls open, then asks quietly, “A little help, babe?” But he doesn’t let go of the sash.

Smiling she slips out of the robe, lifting either side of her body until she’s completely divested of it, and tosses it off to one side. Lola, who’d come in from the yard, saunters in, her fluffy tail wagging behind her and slurps some water noisily, barely glancing their way before laying down on her Regina’s robe, inhaling happily, her eyes falling closed.

She’d usually laugh at Lola’s carefree indifference but Robin’s been dotting kisses along her jawline, neck and collarbone the entire time. She notes with amusement that his fingers are now tugging the bottom of her cami as he whispers he’d like that off of her as well.

“What about the breakfast you promised, Mr. Locksley?,” she asks as she pulls the cami over her head, leaving her only in panties in her kitchen. 

“It’s coming,” he says matter-of-factly, then bends to lick and tease her nipple until it’s pert. “As will you.” His fingers have been working the sash between her hands and the pulls on her cabinets, and when he tugs, her arms go up on either side of her. Briefly the image of Christ on the cross flashes in her mind and she shakes her head vigorously. 

“What…?” Regina asks, but instead Robin presents her with a piece of strawberry between his fingers, whispers _lick it_ before taking the juicy piece of fruit to her pebbled nipple, rubbing it all over her dark areola and hardened nub. Regina’s head falls back when his lips suck both fruit and nipple lavishly, his teeth lightly grazing her before he moves up and plants another kiss on her lips, pushing the piece of strawberry into her mouth just as the toaster pops.

She should be feeling anxious at having her hands bound, she should not be feeling aroused. Her mind battles with her senses as Robin’s tongue continues it’s assault on her body, planting a wet kiss on her mouth before stepping sideways to reach for the toaster.

Deftly, he slathers a bit of preserves on each slice, feeding Regina bits of fruit while popping a few into his own mouth. Lifting a slice, he holds it up to her mouth, wiping the corner of her lips with his thumb as she chews happily. Her legs remain open as he stands between them, feeding her bits of food while he helps himself to her body, rubbing the cold fruit against her breasts, licking the wet trail left behind with his tongue.

“Oh,” he says softly, “It seems I’ve spread a little jam on your thigh.” Regina looks down and finds a small trail of preserves near her kneecap. “Allow me,” he says, running his thumb along the smear and wiping. Staring at him, she expects him to stick his digit in her mouth but instead he sucks his own thumb, wiping it clean but leaving it very wet in the process and in an instant his thumb is running circles on her clit.

“ _Robin_ …” she sighs, half in warning.

“ _Shhh_. I know, love. Trust me,” he assures. He knows she’s turned on. He can feel the hot arousal as his thumb glides along her clit, speeding up. He watches her, notices her hooded eyes, mouth slightly open and her head resting back against the cabinets. Gently, he pushes her thighs open a little more, and allows his fingers to trail through her wetness, gathering the moisture and running it on her engorged clit. “You’re so wet, darling.”

“ _Ahhhh!!_ ” she moans loudly. 

“Mmm-mmm. Not yet,” he says as his tongue licks the shell of her ear and he drops his fingers, leaving her panting.

“What the _HELL_ are you doing??!” Regina roars angrily.

Smirking, he says, “I noticed an overripe peach in your pantry. I think we should share it with our breakfast, don’t you? Wouldn’t want it to go bad.”

She huffs in anger and when he chuckles, she threatens, “Robin. Untie me _right now_. This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny, babe,” he says as he steps over to her pantry, opening the door to retrieve the fruit. “This is very ripe,” he says noncommittally. “Juicy.”

Regina glares at him. “Untie me this instant!!”

Robin doesn’t answer. Instead, he holds the small fruit up to her lips for a bite. She scoffs indignantly, so he shrugs and takes a bite, watching as her eyes darken when a bit of juice runs down his fingers. Her chest rises and falls quickly as he runs his hand slowly down her neck, over her clavicle, making a path with the juice before rubbing the soft peach along both her breasts, leaving sticky wet trails with a few strands of fruit.

“Sorry I’ve made a mess, love. But you’ve nothing to worry about. I’ll clean it up,” he murmurs against her ear. His tongue is on her neck a moment later, licking and sucking at her skin where there’s more flesh than bone, and though she is beyond pissed at him for turning her on then denying her her orgasm, she silently admits to herself that this is incredibly erotic. She’s very turned on and if he’d only just bring his fingers back to her center, if he’d only give her what she needed… But something stops her from voicing her desire out loud. Loathe as she is to admit it, she is even wetter than before and she’s sure that when she does come—because she will get her orgasm, if it is the last thing she does—it will be like a freight train. The buildup has made it better. Robin has made sex better. Because every time she’s with him, he surprises her in ways she’d never imagined. And this new side to him is well… Nothing short of amazing. She won’t tell him though. She’ll keep that nugget of information to herself. After all, she is still mad at him.

Robin’s lips tug at her nipple a little roughly, breaking her out of her thoughts and making her gasp as he whispers _sorry_ against her hot, sticky skin.

He brings his hand back up, a peace offering, so she can have a bite, and inevitably more juice runs along his fingers. He watches her eyes following the quick trail of juice on his fingers. “Show me your tongue,” he rasps.

Regina opens her mouth slightly, her tongue peeking out and running along her bottom lip. His wet fingers come up and she leans forward, taking them into her mouth and sucking him clean, while he finishes off most of the peach. His erection is hard against her thigh. She glances down, watching as it stretches his pajama bottoms. Regina gives him a devious smile, releasing his fingers in the process and bringing her calves up to his ass, pushing him closer to her, to her center as her head snaps toward the small bit of fruit left in his hands. She rotates her hips as best as she can, chewing softly as she rubs her core against his thick cock, his mouth falling open. It’s hard to do this; holding him with her legs, grinding her hips against him while her hands are tied. She ignores the slight ache in her shoulders, stretching the muscles in her neck as her lips chase his, searching for another kiss.

When their lips meet, Robin’s other hand runs through her hair before he starts his torture once again, slowly licking down her neck, making her chuckle when he murmurs he’s making sure he cleans everything, doesn’t want any of the sticky juice left behind. Her skin erupts in goosebumps at the sensations—his tongue, the scratchiness of his beard, the sexy combination of slick and sticky. She lets out a soft moan, encouraging him, before she scoots her butt back, biting her lip when he looks at her curiously. “What?”

“I think we should make a deal,” she says.

“What kind of deal?” he asks carefully before tossing the peach pit into her sink, licking what’s left on his fingers.

“If you make me come, I’ll suck you off in return.” Robin smiles, his teeth grazing his bottom lip. “But—you’ve got to untie me first,” she adds.

“I quite like you tied up like this, though I suppose you’re right,” he says, as his right thumb comes back to his lips, licking the pad. “Let’s compromise: I’ll make you come, _then_ untie you, yeah?”

And before she can think, let alone argue, his thumb is back on her clit. Her eyes fall closed as the back of her head hits the cabinet with a dull thud. Robin’s about to ask if she’s fine, but when he looks, her eyes are closed and her mouth is open again, just like before. This time he has no intention of denying her. Speeding up, he starts to murmur filthy things to her.

“You’re still so wet, babe. I’d rather be sucking you off, making you come with my lips, with my tongue. I’d make you come and then drink up everything pouring out of you, and just as you’re coming down from your high, I’d stick my fingers in you again. They’d slide right in cause you’re always so deliciously wet for me. Juicy. Just like that peach, babe. You’re so tasty, too. I can never get enough of your glorious cunt, lapping up your juices, watching as I make you come over and over again. I love it when you tug on my hair, the way your hips jump when you orgasm. You’re so beautiful when you come, Regina. I could feast on you for hours and never tire of it, never tire of tasting you. Watching you.”

She’s been moaning the entire time, a combination of sighs of ecstasy and his name, which he loves. He’s not sure what’s taking her so long to come. She must be in her head again, as she so often is. Determinedly, he reaches around and cups her ass, his hand grasping a cheek firmly and tilting her forward. “I want to suck your clit so badly, darling,” he whispers roughly against her ear, nipping at her lobe. “I want to wrap my lips around it, hum and suck, then trace it with my teeth,” he says as his hand massages her firm ass. “I’m going to have another nibble, yeah? Somewhere I can be right now. You don’t mind, do you?” Without skipping a beat, he lowers his head again, back down to her breasts as his lips close around a nipple and he sucks at it harshly.

“ _Robiiin!!!!_ ” She gasps as she comes hard, her hips jutting so high off the counter she’d have fallen off if it he hadn’t been standing between her legs.

He lets her come down from her high, slows down his stroking until she shudders, says it’s too much, and he reluctantly moves his fingers, bringing them back up to his lips for a taste.

She stares at him in awe. This man is a dream. 

He reaches over once she’s calm and undoes the binding, and when she brings her arms down, they creak a little as she shrugs her shoulders up, down and around, loosening the kinks. “I’ll give you a massage later,” he promises.

“ _Ahhh_ ,” she sighs. “I’m going to hold you to it.”

Gripping his shoulders, she delicately hops off the counter. Regina takes his hand and leads him to her living room, motioning for him to sit down on the sectional as she grabs some of the decorative pillows. She hates this sectional and she also hates the pillows.

Everything in the room had been handpicked by Leo before he got sick, expressly to annoy her. She remembers arguing with him at the furniture store that she didn’t care for dark orange leather furniture, much less the clunky sectional he was set on, featuring four recliners and armrests that pulled up and slid down to reveal cupholders. The icing on the cake had been the matching orange designer mohair throw pillows. They were hideous and still are. She’d given up hope that Lola might destroy them, believing them to be one of her toys. Perhaps she and Robin can ruin them today, she smiles to herself as she kneels down on one, her hands coming up to the waistband of his pants and tugging them down.

Licking the palm of her hand, she coats it in wetness before wrapping it firmly around his cock, and begins sliding it up and down. Leaning forward, she kisses him deeply, her hand moving rhythmically. He moans as she strokes him, so she sits back on her heels, smiling deviously at him. Running her other hand along his thigh, she says in a low sultry tone, “Let me take care of you.” Her tongue reaches out and licks the wet beads from his tip, her eyes never leaving his. Robin’s head falls back on the cushions when she takes him fully into her mouth, her lips enveloping his cock in hot, wet heat, combining her tongue and hand in sucking, stroking motions.

“That feels so _uhhh_ … _uhhhhhh_ … _gahhh_ …amazing, _ahhh_ , I love this so much,” Robin says, and for a moment his brain screams at him and I love _YOU_ so much but he doesn’t dare say it, not like this. The timing isn’t right, even if it’s true because he does. He loves her so much. How could he not? She’s beautiful, she’s intelligent, she’s giving, she’s caring, she adores his son, gets along with his friends, and the cherry on the sundae is that she’s grown to be adventurous in bed. He likes to believe he’s had something to do with that because when they’d started making love she’d been a lot more reserved. And as an added bonus: she sucks his cock like a champ.

He focuses on silencing his inner thoughts, specifically that niggling little voice reminding him this is the most oral action he’s had since before he met and married Marian. But none of those other girls were anything like the woman presently on her knees, devouring him. Suddenly he gets very quiet. Regina stops, looking up at him questioningly, her head quirking just a bit to one side. Caressing her silky, mussed hair, he says, “Regina, I…”

“What is it? You’re not enjoying this?” she asks, frowning.

“No, no. I _am_ , I’m enjoying it _immensely_ , love,” he assures her and she arches an eyebrow at him before circling her tongue around his tip again, as her hand resumes stroking him, her lips close around his cock. She goes down his shaft but she keeps going, going, going, all the way until her nose is pressed against his pubic bone. When she swallows around him, Robin’s head rolls back against the cushions again and he lets out a haggard breath.

She pulls back slowly, flattening her tongue along his shaft. She breathes out _I love sucking your cock_ , then twists her hand a little on an upstroke before her lips are sucking him in again with fervor.

“I won’t last if you keep doing that, babe,” he rasps and swallows thickly as his eyes open briefly to watch her head moving up and down. She answers him with a moan as she sucks him in harder, determined to bring him to climax. Her cheeks hollow as her head twists and turns and when her lips let him go again, she massages his balls with her hand, her other reaching down to pinch and squeeze her nipples before it continues southbound, resting between her thighs. Robin looks down at her, mumbles _fuuuck_ as he watches her rub her clit while she sucks and strokes him.

His knees start to shake and he can feel his orgasm building. “Babe, _uhhhh_ ,” he tries to warn her. “I’m gonna…I’m gonna… _ahhh, AHHH, UHHH, ohhhhh, ahhhhh!!_ ” He’s groaning incoherently. All he can focus on is the feeling of her mouth as she takes every drop of come he gives her and sucks him clean, her fingers furiously rubbing her clit and just as she lets him go, she doubles over, her own orgasm washing over her and making her fall forward against his thighs as they both gasp and moan, quivering against each other, their aftershocks slowly dying away.

Regina stands and sits next to him rather ungraciously, her head leaning down on his shoulder as he kisses her head. His hand comes up and he runs it through her wavy locks. “It’s a mess right now,” she mumbles, bringing one leg up and over his knee, and Robin pulls back to look her in the eyes as he shakes his head.

“You’ve never looked more beautiful to me than you do right now,” he solemnly assures before planting a quick kiss to her forehead. “But we both are a bit…sticky… and I think another shower is in order,” he says grinning as his hand strokes her thigh absentmindedly.

“I’m starting to think the only reason you’re with me is because you enjoy my shower more than me,” she teases and in one quick motion, Robin stands, making her gasp as his arms pull her up quickly, one arm going around her waist to steady her.

Without blinking, he reaches for her hair with his other hand, his fingers pushing a dark lock behind her ear, before coming back around to caress her face, and he says very seriously, “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

Swept up in the moment, her eyes dart between his, searching it seems though Robin’s not sure what she’s looking for, but finally she lets out a breath and murmurs, “I love you.” Robin cradles her face in his hands and kisses her, even as she shakes her head and says, “You don’t have to say it back. It was just something—…”

His fingers come up over her lips effectively silencing her as he angles his shaking head and says, “No darling, I do.” Her head angles at him, her eyes searching as she waits for him to finish. “I do have to say it, because you see, I love you, too.”

Her arms travel up, wrapping themselves around his shoulders as they kiss. Robin’s fingers delicately trace the curvature of her spine, making her giggle when they come up to her waist and softly caress her ribcage. Taking his hands, she disentangles herself from him and very matter-of-factly says, “How about that shower?”

 

*.*.*.*

 

Will Scarlet had been staying at a hotel until Belle insisted he come and stay at her house, explaining that with her husband in the hospital, she’d feel safer with him there. Little did she know that he’d been involved in the assault, even if indirectly since he was employed by Marco Geppes, the man responsible for beating Spencer Gold into a coma that spanned several days and came with broken bones and cracked ribs. But his younger cousin did not need to know about those details.

Will had always taken care of Belle when they were kids. She was small and painfully thin. She wore enormous tortoise-shell glasses that sported thick lenses which made her eyes look twice as big as they were. The other kids had always been mean to her, constantly making fun of her for always preferring to spend her free time reading instead of playing. The fact that she had a lisp didn’t help matters any.

Will had gotten into several fistfights as a boy, coming to the defense of his younger cousin. He thinks back to those simpler days. He’d have done anything for Belle; she was like a sister to him. But now, he’d gotten involved in this literal mess between his boss and Belle’s husband, Spencer Gold.

Will often thought these things only happened in those dramatic American soap operas his mother loved to watch. He still didn’t know any of the details as to why Geppes wanted to coerce Gold into agreeing with certain demands. He also didn’t know why Geppes was interested in that woman, Regina Mills-Blanchard, nor why he’d asked Will to personally deliver her to him. In the years Will had been working for Geppes, he’d never been asked to bring someone back to Geppes.

Nothing made sense, but who was he to question? Asking wasn’t part of his job description. He was simply a delivery boy, and a highly compensated one at that. It didn’t matter if she was involved with Robin.

He peeked in on Belle, sleeping soundly in her bedroom and he carefully closed the door before making his way out to the garage. Before getting in her car, he returned to the house and scribbled out a quick note in case she woke up.

_Pip- Went to me hotel for extra duds. Back soon._

Walking back to the garage, he got in her car, pressing the remote on the visor that unlocked the garage door as he started the car up and backed out with ease. When he was on the road and off the property, he cranked up the radio and opened the sunroof, bobbing his head to the beat of House of Pain’s _Jump Around_.

Half an hour later, he hands the car key to the valet at the hotel letting him know his room number. His other keys and phone are in one hand while his other reaches into his back pocket to pull out his wallet, and he thumbs through the sections, his fingers plucking out the card-key. He steps into the room quickly, feeling grateful to be out of the heat and inside the ice cold air conditioning of the sterile room before coming to an abrupt stop.

“Boss asked me to come check on you,” Moe says from the corner of the room. He’d been sitting at the small table in the unlit room, the only light coming in through the sheer parts of the curtain. Will jumped startled and cursed.

“Bloody fuck, what’s this? Coming into my room unannounced and unexpected? What’s the boss want?” he barks at the man, making the large man stand menacingly before him. Will snatches the sunglasses from his face and tosses them on the dresser, defiantly.

“Watch your tone, boy. He said you told him you’d pay the woman a visit after the holidays and he hasn’t heard a peep outta you,” Moe says gruffly. “You know bloody well how he feels about delays. So why don’t you sit down and tell me what the holdup is.”

Staring at Moe silently, Will bites his lip as his fingers toy with the keys still jangling from them. He sits down on the edge of the bed closest to the man and says, “Moe, the man the woman’s involved with is me brother, Robin Locksley.”

After a brief pause, a flash of recognition crosses the man’s face, his mouth falling open in disbelief. “The thief?! That’s that boy—you and him used to rob people on that old train platform,” he says as his hands come up over his face. “Will, you’ve got to talk to the boss about this. You’re too close to this job.”

“Don’t you think I know that, mate? Geppes has never asked for a delivery. This can’t be good.” Leaning forward, he sighs and lets his elbows rest on his knees before he goes on. “Robin and I haven’t seen or spoken to each other in a long time. There’s some bad blood, but I can’t tell the boss about all that. That we’re related. Man, who knows what he’d do to the woman!”

Leaning back in the chair, Moe considers this and nods in understanding. Not knowing what else to say, he sighs and asks quietly, “How’s my Pip?”

“She’s in good spirits,” Will confirms. “Doctor says she can start trying again as soon as she’s ready. I’m not sure if her marriage is going to survive this though.”

“That fucking Gold is an egomaniacal son of a bitch. He loves manipulating people and situations, he always has. Not a day goes by I don’t wish my little girl had fallen in love with anyone else but him. If your aunt could see her now, it’d fucking destroy her,” he sighs angrily, his voice cracking when he utters the last two words.

“I know,” Will agrees quietly. 

“Are you sure it’s Robin? Maybe it’s someone who looks like him,” Moe asks and sniffles, as he drags a meaty thumb beneath his eyes, absently rubbing the moisture on his pants.

Will looks at the wet mark left on his uncle’s dark pants and says, “No, it’s him. I followed them to his house,” he explains as Moe sighs again. “That’s where I was all day, on Christmas.”

“You’ve got to tell Geppes. You’ve never been late with an assignment before. I’m sure he’s already suspicious.”

“But what if I can somehow prevent something dangerous from—”

“What?! Now you’re suddenly a hero? When the hell did you become so fucking noble?” Moe roars.

“I know me brother, Uncle Moe,” Will says softly. “He loves this one with his whole heart. If I take her, he’ll make sure to come after me and if any harm befell her, he’d kill me. Robin’s a good man, but even good men break when someone hurts the ones they love.”

“Well you’re also a dead man if you don’t deliver, which is why you need to talk to Marco, you bloody fool! You’re like a dog chasing its tail right now. Come clean, boy. The boss isn’t someone you keep things from. You know that as well as the rest of us.” Standing, he grips Will’s shoulder firmly before giving it three taps and exiting the room, the closing door echoing in the empty hallway. 

“Fuck,” Will whispers and falls back heavily on the bed, his eyes falling closed momentarily. Moe’s words still ringing in his ear, he makes a decision. With newfound purpose, he sits up and moves into the chair his uncle had sat in. Grabbing the pen and pad next to the amenities binder, Will sketches as quickly as his hands allow.

He hopes his plan works. 

“And if not, I’ll find another way,” he says aloud to himself, dropping the pen resolutely on the pad.

 

*.*.*.*

 

“Lolaaaa!” Roland calls out happily as the dog jumps up to lick his cheek. Trina had texted Robin to let him know that they’d decided to order in for brunch and to come over whenever they wanted. Which is exactly what they did, after a leisurely shower full of passionate kisses, tender caresses, and several more _I love you_ ’s. Now that the floodgates had opened, they were both all smiles and dopey-eyed looks.

Trina smirks at them both only to get an angry glare from Regina, causing her to throw her hands up in the air and mumble, “I’ve said nothing.” John, on the other hand, greets them cheerfully, kissing Regina on the cheek a little awkwardly and clapping Robin on the back.

“Actually,” Trina says, “I meant to call or text you.” Motioning with her finger, Robin and Regina lean closer as she whispers, “While we were eating, Ariel called to invite Roland over. Eric’s taking Sam and Deacon to a go-kart park and they begged for Roland to go along with them. I didn’t want to say anything in case we had another _kitten situation_ , like earlier.”

“I appreciate that,” Robin says gratefully.

“You’re welcome,” Trina smiles. “Anyway, she said afterward they were planning on pitching a tent in the yard and asked if you’d let him sleep over. He’s going to need a change of clothes though. He’s only got what he brought here yesterday.”

“Of course. I’m more than happy to take him then. I’m sure that’ll help quell his newest pet obsession,” Robin says laughing.

Regina has said nothing and frankly she feels a little awkward. She never knows how to act when matters about parenting Roland arise. She’s never thought of herself as a mother, hadn’t ever wanted to be one since her career had been the most important thing to her up until then. Now that she and Robin were together, and things were officially much more serious between them, she wondered if she should ever give input, or if it was even wanted. She couldn’t imagine Robin snapping at her over something dealing with Roland, but she wasn’t sure whether or not it was her place yet, or if it’d ever be. Then she remembered Christmas morning, how Marian had returned expecting her son to welcome her with open, forgiving arms, and how Roland had clung to _her_. He’d chosen _her_. It’s that brief memory that causes her to speak up and offer weakly, “I could go back to your place? Get him some clothes and his stuff?” They’re not questions, they aren’t supposed to be questions, but she’s unsure and completely out of her element.

Trina looks from her to Robin, as Robin’s head turns slowly toward hers. _It’s silly_ , she tells herself, but her thumping heart isn’t listening as she looks into his blue eyes. The seconds tick by slowly as a smile appears on his lips, crinkles forming in the corners of his eyes. “That would be lovely, my darling.”

 

*.*.*.*

 

When she arrives at Robin’s, she parks her SUV in his usual spot, humming to herself as she exits the car. She’d left them at Trina’s, even Lola, and was all smiles when she left, planting several chaste kisses on Robin’s lips as he’d squeezed her fingers and told her to hurry back.

Driving the short distance to his home, she hadn’t realized she’d been smiling the entire time.

She threw a cursory glance at a sedan parked in Killian’s spot. He was probably using someone else’s car, she thought to herself as she slid her purse up on her arm. Just as she placed her foot on the first of the porch steps, a voice stopped her.

“Regina? That you honey?” Ms. Lucas called out, a weathered hand parting palm fronds as her graying head peeked out from them. Regina almost laughed aloud. From this distance, she looked like a floating head in a sea of green.

“Hello Ms. Lucas. How are you?” Regina asked politely as she walked over, keys in hand.

“I’m doing fine, darling. You look great, by the way.”

“Oh, you’re very kind.”

“Robin’s not with you?” She knew she had nothing to worry about because Ms. Lucas knew her, knew she and Robin were together, but having her ask still grated her nerves a little.

“No, he’s at a friend’s house. I’m actually due back soon, I only came by to get an overnight bag for Roland. He’s got a sleepover with some friends,” she explained, telling herself to remain calm and pleasant. Nothing was going to knock her off her happy cloud today. Nothing.

Frowning, Ms. Lucas says, “Huh. Maybe I shouldn’t have let him in then.”

Furrowing her brows, Regina asks, “Let _who_ in?”

“Will, of course. Robin’s brother? He’s inside the house. That’s his car,” she says pointing to the sedan.

“Ms. Lucas, don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll just go in and get Roland’s bag, and I’ll be sure to let Will know where Robin is. Maybe he’d like to come with me, but if not, I’ll be back with Robin very soon. He’s just a few minutes away.”

“Sure honey, sure. You go on in. It’s hotter than a summer day in hell out here. Take care, baby girl,” she says as her head vanishes back into the palm fronds making Regina chuckle softly as she turns and heads into the house.

When she opens the front door, she nearly faints when she finds Will Scarlet standing beside it, a gun in his hand pointed at her. “Well hello there, lovely. Thanks for making this easy for me.”

*.*.*.*

 

They get into Will’s sedan without fanfare, the gun hidden underneath one of Robin’s sweaters, skillfully draped over his arm. Regina’s been silently cursing herself since having entered the house for not texting Robin when she’d made it here, like she promised she would. Now he won’t know anything unless he talks to Ms. Lucas. If he even _thinks_ to talk to Ms. Lucas. The older woman stands at a corner in her front yard, a hose in her hand as she waters the grass. Regina stares at her, willing her to look over at them leaving, but Ms. Lucas only glances their way and waves a hand absentmindedly as her eyes return to her green lawn.

She is completely fucked.

 

*.*.*.*

 

It’s been almost an hour and Robin hasn’t heard a peep. She’d promised to text when she got to his home, but she must’ve forgotten, he thinks to himself as he looks at his phone again.

“Another beer?” John asks as he stands from the couch, eyes fixed on the football game they’d been watching. Robin shakes his head. “What is it?”

“Nothing. It’s just… Well. Regina hasn’t texted is all.”

Scoffing, John teases, “So what, lover boy? She’s probably looking for some of Roland’s stuff. You shoulda gone with her if you’re so damn worried, if you two can spare a moment without groping each other.”

“It’s not that, you brainless buffoon. She always texts me.”

“Would you listen to yourself? Relax and stop acting like a woman!” John laughs. “She’ll be back soon. It’s less than fifteen minutes from here.”

Nodding, Robin leans back in the armchair. He’s still feeling uneasy when Roland jogs up to him half an hour later and asks, “Dad, when’s Regina coming back?”

“I don’t know, to be honest.”

“Why don’t you call her?”

Robin admits that he had called her. Twice, actually. And it’d gone to voicemail both times. He’d also texted her once, playfully scolding her for not letting him know she’d arrived safely. Looking over at John, he says, “You’ve got to admit, it’s pretty odd she hasn’t returned my text or answered her phone. She’s been gone now for over an hour.”

Trina comes into the living room wiping her hands on a dishcloth. “What’s going on?”

“Regina’s not back yet,” Roland says disappointedly.

“That’s odd,” she says.

“Exactly what I said a half hour ago,” Robin quips as he throws John a dirty look.

Trina leaves then returns with keys in hand. “Here, take my car. She’s probably wondering what Roland needs is all. You should’ve gone with her,” she chides jokingly as Robin takes her keys.

“Would you mind keeping Roland a little longer?”

“Of course not. Go. We’ll be fine and we’ll see you soon.”

 

*.*.*.*

 

He pulls into the driveway of his home and lets out a sigh of relief when he sees Regina’s SUV parked in his spot. He’d been worried but now as he takes deep breaths, he tells himself not to get angry with her. They’d had a wonderful few days together, had finally fully admitted their feelings out loud to each other, and Robin didn’t want to ruin it by starting what would undoubtedly be a silly, pointless argument.She’d surprised him when she volunteered to come get Roland’s overnight bag, and he’d agreed to let her mostly because he heard the quiver in her voice. They’d crossed a line with their confession of love; it was the promise given in every relationship when it became serious, and it had overjoyed him. He knew she’d always been career-minded and he never begrudged her that, nor would he. Robin felt that every woman ought to be free to decide for herself whether or not she chose to become a mother, and he especially believed Regina deserved that particular freedom from her otherwise chained existence. But the fact that she’d offered to do this kind gesture for his son? No, that hadn’t been lost on him at all. It only made him love her even more, because he knew she loved Roland too.

Walking into his home, he calls out for her. “Regina?” No answer. The house is eerily quiet. Sighing, he goes into Roland’s bedroom and frowns when he sees the room is exactly the way he left it.

He steps back out into the hall and calls out again. “Regina?” The silence rings in his ears as he walks hurriedly to his bedroom, followed by John and Killian’s rooms. She’s nowhere, yet her car is parked out front.

Jogging out to the man cave, he throws the door open as his eyes search the room. “Regina?” He calls out a third time. There’s a slight tone of desperation in his voice. He closes the door and walks briskly to the opposite side, opening the sliding glass door and stepping out into his yard.

“REGINA??”

It’s Ms. Lucas who answers him from her own yard. “Robin?”

“Ms. Lucas, hello. I’m looking for Regina. You haven’t seen her today, have you?”

“Matter of fact, I did, son. She came to get an overnight bag for your boy, but I thought she’d have been back with you by now,” she says frowning.

“Ms. Lucas, she’s not here, but her car is,” Robin explains patiently.

“I know. She left with Will,” the woman answers, as Robin feels himself go numb.

“Will?” he asks dumbly.

“Yes silly! Will! Your brother!” Ms. Lucas says laughing. “He was here, so I let him in.”

Robin’s staring at her but his vision momentarily goes red. This woman doesn’t know, he has to remind himself. He’d forgotten about the key he’d given her a year ago, in case of emergency. She had no way of knowing what had transpired between him and his stepbrother.

“Ms. Lucas,” he says, taking a deep breath and mustering as much patience as he can at the moment. “When did they leave?”

“Hmm, I don’t really know. Maybe an hour or so ago? I don’t have my watch on me,” she says apologetically. “My Harold gave it to me on our fiftieth wedding anniversary and I never wear it when I’m gardening.”

Closing his eyes, he sighs, “Thank you, Ms. Lucas. I’ve got to go.” He turns and runs back into his house, not hearing whatever it is she says to him.

Pressing a few buttons on his cell phone, he brings it to his ear and isn’t the least bit surprised when the voicemail picks up after half a ring.

“Hello there. You’ve reached Will. Leave a message and I’ll call ya back.”

“ _If you hurt one hair on Regina’s head, I will mutilate you_ ,” Robin growls and ends the call, then promptly hits send on another number. “Killian? It’s Regina. Will’s kidnapped her,” he breathes out anxiously.

 

*.*.*.*

 

They’ve been driving for nearly half an hour, neither one speaking. The radio’s been on quietly, playing some type of rap music Regina doesn’t recognize. She’d felt her phone buzz several times in her purse, but she’d made no attempt at answering it. At least if her phone was on, Robin might think to track her. If he knew she was missing by now, that is.

She didn’t often travel this way but she knew the city well enough to know they were near the Aventura subdivision. They pull into a touchless car washing bay. Lowering the window, Will makes his selection and pays for the wash, then waits for the green light before rolling the sedan forward. Once they’re inside, he parks and the machine starts up, water pummeling hard against the car before another arm on the machine comes up and thick, foamy soap sprays out, starting at the front end of the car.

“Me boss wants to see you,” he says simply. Regina doesn’t say a word. “I’m really sorry about this.” She remains still, her eyes focusing on the soap that’s now darkened the windows. “I’ve got a plan though, if you want to hear it?” She continues to ignore him, choosing to stare at the soap in silence.

A soft yelp escapes her lips when Will’s hand comes up over her face, covering it with a moistened handkerchief. The last thing she sees before blacking out is a circular polisher, menacingly coming toward the windshield.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. This chapter was not run through a beta so any mistakes are my own.

Trina, John and Roland arrive at Robin’s house within minutes. When they walk in, Roland runs to his father and throws his arms around him. “Dad, where did Uncle Will take Regina?”

He fixes a hard stare on John and Trina, who have the decency to look contrite. “Couldn’t make something up?”

John bows his head in shame. “He caught me off guard, man. I’m sorry. What did Killian say?”

Robin looks down at Roland, Lola’s leash in his hands and says, “Why don’t you take Lola outside? She probably needs to relieve herself. John’ll go with you, alright?”

Roland mumbles _okay Dad_ , as John puts an arm around his shoulder and leads him and the dog out back.

“Killian’s on his way,” Robin says. “David’s running a search on vehicle rental shops around town. Ms. Lucas said Will was in a gold Audi sedan.”

Squeezing his shoulder supportively, Trina asks if he’d like some tea. He shakes his head but she moves into the kitchen and prepares the kettle anyway.

Walking back to his bedroom while she’s busy, Robin pulls his leather notebook from his satchel and thumbs to the most recent sketch he’d completed. He’d drawn it with a fountain pen, the thin crosshatched lines creating vivid details, capturing the contented smiles of the people he loved most: it was Regina reading a story to Roland, with Lola lying at their feet.

He was so entranced in his memory, recalling how he’d stared at them from the opposite wall in Roland’s room as he sketched, always in pencil first before going over the lines in ink. Tracing the sketched image with his finger, he didn’t hear Trina until she spoke from his doorway.

“We’re going to find her, you know. And she’ll be safe. He wouldn’t hurt her.” 

Sighing, he folds his notebook closed and brings the elastic around, securing it closed, as he tosses it on his bed and walks out of his room with Trina beside him.

“I should’ve been the one to come home for his bag,” he whispers.

“You couldn’t have known he’d be here. John told me about him. You two had a falling out?”

Robin stops and faces her. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Robin, I—”

“I _don’t_ want to talk about it,” he repeats firmly.

They continue toward his kitchen in silence. He slumps into a chair as Trina places a steaming mug of tea in front of him. Roland is snacking on a yogurt cup, and John bows his head down, still repentant for giving him shit earlier about Regina not texting or answering his calls.

“I didn’t want any tea,” he mumbles as he motions to the mug with his chin.

“Tough,” she says softly and smiles when he looks at her with surprise. Grabbing a hold of his hand, she squeezes his fingers. “Everything’s going to be okay.” 

 

*.*.*.*

 

_“I love you,” Robin whispers in her ear, as his hands rub her sore shoulders and arms. They glide easily on her oily skin. She’d handed him a bottle of massage oil as they toweled themselves off after their shower._

_Regina feels as if she’s in a dream. There’s a slight haze to everything. She considers making an appointment to have her eyes checked._

_Robin had pulled the pillows off the bed and asked her to lie down on her stomach. He immediately got to work and she was starting to feel better already._

_Tilting her head to one side, she asks, “Do you love me more than chocolate?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“More than football? And beer?”_

_“Of course.”_

_“Do you love me more than your man cave?”_

_“Without a doubt,” Robin chuckles, as Regina groans in pain. “Oh, oh, oh. You’ve got a kink, just there. Hang on, love.” His fingers move deliberately over the tight muscle spot, pushing in deeply before rubbing in an outward, circular motion._

_“Mmm. That feels nice. We should do this more often,” Regina sighs._

_“Which part?”_

_“All of it,” she says without hesitation as Robin laughs._

_“What brings you more pleasure, the massage or the orgasms?”_

_Scoffing, she says, “That’s not fair Robin! It’s like comparing Lobster Thermidor to a Quarter Pounder from McDonald’s.”_

_He laughs again at her. “Really now? How so?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“I’m curious as to which one of the two you consider the fancy lobster versus the cheap, greasy burger.”_

_“Point taken, it was a poor analogy on my part. Let me rephrase it,” she says and thinks to herself as his hands continue to rub her upper back and shoulders. “I give up.”_

_“Already? Come on babe, you never give up this easily.”_

_“I do when I’m this relaxed.”_

_“Hmmm…”_

_“What?” He says nothing, just keeps massaging her. “Robin?”_

_“Mmm?”_

_“You hummed. That means something.”_

_“Why would you assume that?” Regina hears his laughter again and it makes her smile. She loves hearing him laugh, loves everything about this moment. The intimacy, the tenderness with which he’s taking care of her. She wishes she could hold onto this forever._

_“Because I know you. You’re not one to keep your thoughts to yourself.”_

_“I merely had a passing thought.”_

_He says nothing else so she prompts him. “Care to enlighten me?”_

_“If you can’t think of an analogy, perhaps I need to give you another orgasm now to be certain. You know, for science.”_

_Her shoulders shake as she laughs. She sits up and turns to kiss him. “Science, huh?”_

_Nodding seriously, he says, “I was always_ very _into science when I was a boy.”_

_“Really? Were you one of those boys who liked playing with the frogs instead of dissecting them?”_

_“I’m afraid so. I rescued my frog and took him home, kept him in a terrarium.”_

_“You didn’t.”_

_“I did. His name was Alan.” Smiling, he bites his bottom lip and adds, “He needed my help. He was supposed to die but I saved him.”_

_“I see. And how long did you have Alan for?”_

_He looks down embarrassed and rubs a hand on the back of his neck. “About three weeks.”_

_“Some savior!” Regina teases and playfully taps his forearm._

_“It was an accident. I’d made him a nice home, full of moss, branches, and grass. I even made a small pond for him out of an egg carton my mum was going to toss. I created this tiny contained forest for Alan. Anyway, I’d woken up late for school one morning and was rushing to get there on time, so after I played with him a little—I always held Alan in the morning, you see, then when I got home from school, I’d hold him again, and once more every night before bed. Well, it seems I didn’t close the latch properly and Alan hopped out.”_

_Groaning, Regina says, “Oh no…”_

_“Mum was hoovering the floors that day, along with the drapes and between the sofa cushions, and she didn’t even notice poor Alan had gone missing. It wasn’t until the hoover sounded like it had swallowed up something and sounded clogged that she realized,” he winces, his hand coming up to his forehead in shame._

_“Oh my God. Poor Alan.”_

_“Yes indeed.”_

_They sit in awkward silence for several minutes as Regina traces patterns along his thigh. “That’s a first.”_

_“What is?”_

_“I think we’ve effectively killed the mood for both massage and orgasm.”_

_Leaning forward, he captures her lips and says, “I think Alan would want us both to be happy.”_

_“Do you?”_

_“Yes. As a matter of fact…”_

_“Oh shut up,” she laughs, kissing him again._

_Soon hands begin to wander along each other’s bodies. When she starts pumping his cock, his fingers tangle in her hair and he kisses her roughly. “Are you done with…you know…your…time of the month?” She nods. “That was fast,” he notes. “Not that I’m complaining.”_

_“Side effect. My IUD has hormones,” she explains._

_“I love it when you talk science,” he says as they both laugh between kisses. He moves forward, his hands on her back, lowering her gently on the bed. He cradles her head with one hand as her own comes up and she scratches his beard. “Is it too rough for you?”_

_“Nope. I like it rough,” she says deviously._

_“That’s very good to know, milady,” he says, ghosting kisses down her body, and stopping every few seconds along the way to scratch her skin with his beard before settling between her thighs._

_This time, Robin doesn’t make her wait. His lips are on her in an instant, sucking her clit as his tongue flutters against the hardened hooded nub. “Mmmm, ahhh, don’t stop Robin, please,” she breathes._

_“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he promises, and resumes lapping at her. Her thighs instinctively tense up and she tries to stop her knees from involuntarily closing around his head. Without stopping his ministrations, he gently touches the insides of her knees, coaxing them to part so she’s spread wide for him._

_“I love you,” she says as she looks down at Robin between her legs, but his face and upper body start to darken and morph strangely into an odd shape, one that resembles a car washing machine, and an arm with a powerful rotating buffer is getting closer and closer to her face._

_She hears herself scream._

 

Her mouth feels like cotton. Her eyes are heavy but she forces them open anyway. She looks around blearily, noticing the cheap, tacky furniture. Her nose wrinkles at the smell of stale cigarette smoke and mothballs and she feels a little nauseous. Sitting up, she looks around and finds Will Scarlet sitting on the bed opposite her.

“Hullo sunshine,” he says cheerfully. Rolling her eyes, she asks where they are. “Somewhere in the tropics.” Standing, he pulls a plastic bag out of the mini fridge and hands her a bottle of water. “Here.”

“Right. Like I’d drink anything _you_ give me,” she deadpans.

“It’s unopened. I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

Taking the bottle from him, she forcibly opens it, hearing the snap as the cap comes off. Holding it tightly in her hand, she maintains eye contact with Will and takes a long drink. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and asks, “If you’re ‘not going to hurt me,’” she mimics sarcastically using her fingers as air quotes, “Why the subterfuge?”

He sits back on the same bed he’d been on and turns the television off with the remote, tossing it to one side. “Do ya know who I am?”

“Will, Robin’s step brother. What do you want with me? Are you trying to get back at Robin for something?”

“This isn’t about Robin, luv. Me boss asked to bring ya to him. Only thing is, I don’t know what he wants ya for.”

“He didn’t tell you?”

Will shakes his head. “Boss gives orders, not explanations. I took ya because I want ta make sure he won’t harm ya. By and by, got a message from Robin already. Says he’s gonna mutilate me if something happens to ya.”

Regina nearly sighs in relief with the news; Robin knows. That means Ms. Lucas must’ve told him about letting Will in, seeing them drive off together. She offers a silent prayer of gratitude to whomever is listening, knowing full well she’s not completely out of the dark yet. 

“Would you mind sharing something with me?”

“That depends, luv. What do ya want ta know?”

“Who’s your boss?”

Will swallows a long gulp of water as Regina watches his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “Marco Geppes.”

Her mouth falls open in surprise. “ _Marco Geppes?_ ”

“Aye. Ya sound like ya know him.”

“I sort of do. We’re related,” she says. “Let’s go. Take me to your boss. I don’t believe he’s going to hurt me, but first, you’ve got to promise me something.”

“I can’t make ya any promises I know nothing about.”

“Well look who knows how to play the hardball negotiator.” Will smirks at her. “Listen up, Scarlet. If you don’t help me out, the only way you’re getting me to Geppes is by delivering my drugged and unconscious body. I won’t go easily.”

He considers it and says, “Alright. What do you want?”

“I need you to call Robin and let him know I’m fine. He’s probably worried sick right now. He deserves to know I’m okay.”

Will stares at her for a few minutes. The air conditioning turns on, the stink of stale air circulating around them. Regina remains resolute and silent. She can see Will’s thinking about it, and finally he mutters, “Fine. But don’t ya want to hear me plan?”

Grabbing her handbag off the bed, she says, “Not really.”

 

*.*.*.*

 

They drive north on I-95 and get off on the Hallandale Beach Boulevard exit. “How are you related to me boss, eh?”

“Excuse me?” Regina asks incredulously. “I don’t have to answer your questions.” Her phone has been quiet and she runs her hand in what she hopes appears an inconspicuous motion as she feels that side of her bag where she normally keeps it in one of the pockets. It’s empty. Her heart starts to beating rapidly, as she tells herself to stay calm and forces deep breaths into her lungs.

“Oi, it’s an innocent question!”

She ticks off the list on her fingers as she says, “You kidnapped me. You drugged me. You won’t tell me where we’re going. Shall I go on?”

“Fair enough,” he chuckles as he merges onto traffic, the steering wheel sliding through his loose fingers.

They arrive at a high-rise office building. Will punches a code and a gate rises slowly. He pulls forward, driving the Audi into the garage.

When they park, Regina says, “Wait.”

“What now?”

“You never called Robin,” she points out.

Will’s jaw clenches as he says, “Get outta the fucking car.”

“Call Robin.”

“Oi, I’ll call him after I’ve delivered!”

“No, you’ll call Robin _now_. We had a deal,” she says warningly.

Will mutters under his breath that she’s a hard ass bitch, but Regina doesn’t care. They agreed to it and she gets the sense that if Will doesn’t deliver her to Geppes safe, sound, and _conscious_ , he’s going to be in a world of trouble. He pulls his cell phone from his pocket and scrolls through the contacts, hitting send on _Robino Locksley_. Regina’s brows furrow in amusement despite the situation. Robino? _What the hell?_

The line rings for half a second before she hears Robin’s menacing voice as he shouts over the receiver . _“WHERE IS SHE?!?”_

“Don’t I get a hullo, Rob?”

Regina can hear the desperation in Robin’s voice. She wishes she could snatch the phone away from Will and assure Robin she was fine. But the gun he’d pointed at her this afternoon is nestled in a towel on his lap, his hand over it. _“I will fucking_ kill you _, Will Scarlet!!!”_

“Hang on matey, someone wants to say hi,” he says and looks at Regina.

She calls out, “Robin, I’m okay! Please don’t worry, I’m going to talk to Geppes!”

_“LET ME SPEAK TO HER!!”_

“Sorry brother, time’s up,” he quips and ends the call, pulling the gun out of the towel and pointing it at Regina.

“How _dare_ you?!” she accuses.

“It’s part of me plan—ya know—the one ya didn’t want ta hear. Can’t bring ya in looking like I know you and me boss are family or that I let ya make a call.”

“You didn’t…” She stops herself. It’s not worth it. Shaking her head, Regina gets out of the car. The sooner she got this over with, the better. For everyone. She wanted nothing more than to get back to Robin and Roland.

 

*.*.*.*

 

“Is she alright?” Killian asks Robin. He’d come home and taken Ms. Lucas’ statement, phoning David to call off searching for cars that were rented under the name Will Scarlet as they learned from Ms. Lucas that the car Will and Regina had driven off in had a unique license plate that spelled out B00KWRM. A quick search on the vehicle registration database revealed that the car was registered to Belle Gold.

In all the time he’s known Robin, Killian has never seen his friend this worried before. Robin’s been walking the length of the man cave for nearly an hour since Roland left. Trina and John had taken him to Ariel and Eric’s house, and Robin agreed he’d be better off there, distracted and playing with his friends. He’d put on a brave face, but he could see Roland was anxious as well. “Don’t worry, alright,” he whispered to his son. “Regina’ll be back before you know it.” Roland nodded, said _okay Dad,_ _see ya_ , and kissed his father’s cheek.

“Will called. I heard her.”

“Did he put her on the phone? Did you actually talk to her?”

“No, but she called out to me. She sounded okay, but the fucking _bastard_ refused to put her on the line,” he rants and kicks the bench, the lead weights not budging an inch.

“You’re sure it was Regina? It might’ve been someone else’s voice? Belle Gold’s perhaps?”

“No,” Robin insists. “It was definitely Regina.”

“Any idea why Will, of all people, would take her?” Killian asks.

“No, none.” Robin is desperate. His eyes look wild and tired. “I knew he was in town. He was on the news recently, staying with Belle Gold coincidentally.”

“Aye, your pretty little cousin?”

Robin looks at him in confusion. “What are you on about, mate?”

“Belle Gold? Isn’t that your cousin? Or Will’s rather, on their mother’s side? The scrawny one everyone called ‘Pippi’ or something? I assume it was the red hair,” he adds chuckling.

The recognition finally hits Robin as he puts it together. “Pip!! Of course it is, it’s Pip! I hardly recognized her.”

“Aye, she turned out quite lovely, eh?”

“Killian? Focus,” Robin scolds, making his friend smirk. “She’s married to Spencer Gold, that wanker attorney who’s been making Regina’s life hell.”

Killian’s laptop is on the bar next to a bottle of beer. He tilts the screen forward as he takes a seat on one of the stools.

“What are you doing?”

“I never thought to simply Google Mr. Scarlet.”

Killian scrolls through a few sites, hums at a few things as Robin takes the stool beside him, his leg comes over it as he sits. “Find anything interesting?”

“As a matter of fact, I did. Take a look,” he says and angles the computer toward Robin. His eyes widen in shock.

It’s a photograph of Will, standing beside an older man. The headline reads: _Scarlet posts bail for longtime employer, suspected mob boss, Marco Geppes_.

 

*.*.*.*

 

Regina and Will step into the elevator. He pushes the button for the thirty-second floor as they ride up in silence. She throws him a dirty look and he turns away. They arrive and the doors slide open. Stepping out, Regina sees it’s an open floor plan office space with an oval shaped conference table in the center of the room, chairs tucked neatly around it. An older man sits in one of the chairs watching as they come closer. On a tray sits a clear pitcher of water and two glasses, each one elegantly carved with ornate designs. On the table next to the tray is a metal briefcase which is closed.

Two armed men stand to the right side of the room near the elevator. Will walks over to where they are and as she approaches the table, the man stands up, his eyes never leaving hers.

Marco Geppes.

 

*.*.*.*

 

“We’ve got to get Regina out of there _now_ , Killian!” Robin’s been pulling his hair in frustration. It’s all disheveled and pointing in different directions. Trina and John arrive back at the house and shuffle into the man cave.

“We don’t even now where ‘ _there’_ is, mate! You’re not thinking straight,” Killian says calmly.

“What’s happening?” Trina asks looking at them.

“Will called. He wouldn’t put Regina on the phone, but I heard her voice. She said she was alright.” Trina puts her arms around Robin’s shoulders comfortingly.

“I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, Robin. But you’ve got to be strong. Regina’s a smart woman. If she said she was fine, you’ve got to trust her, trust she knows what she’s doing.”

Robin shrugs her off angrily and stands. “I can’t believe any of you! What the hell is wrong? Do you actually _not_ like Regina and this is your way of letting me know? You…you don’t seem to care that she’s gone, or that she’s probably in danger?”

John approaches him and says, “Rob, I know Will. I also know what’s going through your mind. But despite what happened, that’s not what this is. He’d never actually hurt someone and you know that, too. Try to calm down, okay? I get that you’re worried, man, but you need to keep your wits about you. Besides, Regina can hold her own. Don’t underestimate her.”

Robin gives him a hard look. “How can you be so sure about Will?”

“Because I know how repentant he was after it happened,” he says quietly.

Killian and Trina share confused looks.

John goes on. “Deep down, you know he wouldn’t hurt a soul.”

Robin doesn’t say anything else even though he vehemently disagrees. Instead, he slumps helplessly against the wall and slides down to the floor, resting his elbows on his knees as he closes his eyes.

Only one word, one image, comes to his mind: Regina.

 

*.*.*.*

 

“Leave us,” Geppes says to the other men in the room, and they shuffle toward the elevator, except for Will who steps forward.

“Boss?”

Geppes looks over at him and raises an eyebrow questioningly, but it’s enough for Will to retreat and glance apologetically at Regina as he backs away from them, following Bill and Moe into the elevator. She watches their faces disappear as the doors close, mentally calling Will a coward.

“Sit down, please,” Geppes offers amiably, pouring her a glass of water.

She hesitates, choosing instead to give Geppes a good, long look. It’s natural to feel uneasy, a little defiant even. But his next words disarm her. “You look so much like Coralia.”

Not many people knew her Cora’s full name.

“You knew my mother?”

“I did. Your father Henry and I are— _were_ —cousins. Did you know that?”

She says nothing, but pulls a chair out and takes a seat. He does the same, and sits across from her.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve brought you here.”

Regina remains silent, just as she did with Will. She has no reason to trust Geppes, even if they are related. As long as all he wanted was to talk, she’d listen.

“Did you know a man named Sidney Glass?”

 _What the hell was going on?_ she wondered. “Briefly. He was an attorney at the law firm I used to work at,” she answers carefully.

“Do you know what happened to him?”

Shaking her head she says, “Last I heard, he was still working there. That’s all I know.”

Geppes takes a sip of water. “I know about Leo,” he says, changing course. “And I know about the will.”

“How does that relate to Sidney Glass?”

“After you were forced to take over Blanchard Snow, Sidney Glass was threatened by Spencer Gold.”

“And?” Regina asks unimpressed.

“Glass was subsequently murdered.” 

Nothing is making sense. She vaguely recalls Mal saying something about Sidney not that long ago, something about him hitting on Kathryn. “That’s impossible,” she laughs dryly. “A colleague of mine says he was romantically pursuing another attorney there, a new hire. Either way, I don’t see how any of it relates to me.”

“You were aware Sidney Glass was attracted to you?”

“I was, and I turned him down politely.”

“Did you know anything else about him?”

“Mr. Geppes, why do I get the feeling you’re interrogating me?”

“Sidney Glass was murdered in his home by a man named Wallace Gregory. Gregory is a registered felon in four states. Have you ever heard of The Mirror Man?”

She says she remembers reading about the case online, though it had been a long time ago.

“Gregory _is_ The Mirror Man. He was known for murdering people, then assuming their identities. He’d live their lives for a short period of time as he chose his next victim, usually young successful women. He’d rape and murder them too, then burn the bodies. It’s said that Gregory has scattered so many ashes everywhere, he ought to be renamed The Ash Man. Anyway, he assumed Sidney’s identity, and the first thing he did was resign from Gold’s firm.”

Regina cannot remember for the life of her whether or not Mal told her about this. She’d been so busy with her own problems, searching old records to find information about the man sitting before her (the irony isn’t lost on her), and trying her best to maintain some semblance of a normal life.

“After a stint in prison, Gregory was paroled and when he came out, he became a freelance investigative photographer. He lived in Central Florida, and his specialty was tracking down spouses suspected by their partners of being unfaithful. However, instead of returning to his male clients with the proof, he’d approach the cheating wives and rape them. He’d threaten to kill them, and their children if they were mothers, if they ever reported him to the police.”

Regina can feel the bile rising in her throat. This reunion had taken a turn for the morbid, and she didn’t know how everything connected with her. 

“With all due respect, Mr. Geppes, you’ve been speaking for a long time and I still have no idea why you asked I be brought here.”

“Please, call me Marco,” he says, and her eyes go wide as she mutters _okay_ and blows out a deep breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. In spite of his story, she felt at ease in his presence. Marco Geppes looked at her with kind eyes, and it reminded her of her father.

“A man like me has a lot of friends,” he went on. “I know a lot of people, everywhere. I’ve had my eye on you for some time.”

At this admission, her head snaps up sharply to look him in the eye. Maybe she had overestimated him.

“I had my suspicions about Sidney Glass, but Wallace Gregory was a complete sociopath by comparison. So I contacted one of my business associates, Peter Malcolm. I asked him to contract an investigative photographer. And who shows up? Gregory of course, posing as Sidney Glass, attorney at law. He’d gone on a little spree, raping four women in two weeks, and as Gregory, he had to lay low.”

When he says Malcolm’s name, her mouth falls open. That’s the card Robin had found just outside her home. “Are you saying that this man, Malcolm— _on your orders_ —sent a psychopath to my home? What _the hell_ for?” She tries to remain calm, but her voice betrays her. The anger seeps through as her tone goes up.

Marco remains calm. “No harm would have befallen you, believe me. Remember, I have friends who are my eyes and ears everywhere. You’ve been protected this entire time even though you didn’t know it.”

“If that’s true, why am I only learning about you now?” she asks angrily. Regina has about had it. She’s tired, she’s a little hungry despite her nerves, and she wants him to get to the point. “Cut the shit, _Marco_.”

He laughs at her. “I see you got Coralia’s fire too. That’s very good.” 

 

*.*.*.*

 

Killian, John, Trina and Robin had relocated from the man cave to the living room. They’d been alternating between sitting on the floor and barstools until they felt sweaty and uncomfortable. John swears that he’s going to install a couple of ceiling fans in the room.

Trina offers to get them something to drink, but Killian stands up instead. “No worries, luv, I’ll get it. I’ve got to stretch my legs anyway.” Thanking him, he leaves the room stopping only to give Robin a reassuring pat on his shoulder.

Holding four bottled waters in his hands, Killian turns toward the living room when he feels his cell phone buzz in his back pocket. Placing them on the counter, he pulls his phone out, glancing up to make sure no one’s watching.

 

_BILL SMEE: She’s with the boss now._

 

 _Good_ , he thinks. This was all going to come to an end tonight. Robin might be mad at first, but he’d understand once Regina came back.

 

*.*.*.*

 

“Your father and I were close when we were boys. His parents would bring him to Italy twice a year; once in the summer and again for the winter holidays,” Marco says wistfully. “He was the only one in the family who didn’t treat me differently or refer to me as ‘ _the bastard son’_.”

 _Poker face, Regina. Remain calm,_ she tells herself. It was hard listening to this stranger give intimate accounts about her parents.

“I knew Henry was doing well, and one year when he came to Italy, he told me he’d met the most enchanting woman on a trip to Cuba. She was a dance instructor. He said they’d be married soon, and that he’d bring her to Italy so everyone could meet her. When he arrived with her and I saw Coralia—Cora—for the first time, she was…the most beautiful woman I’d seen in my life. They hadn’t been married long, but I found out later that she was already pregnant with you. Cora was enchanting in so many ways, so easy to talk to and spend time with…” he trails off, lost in the memory.

Regina drinks some of her water as she waits patiently for him to come back.

“I may have forced myself on her,” he admits quietly, a pained expression on his face.

Letting out a haggard breath, her voice breaks when she asks, “D-did you… Did you _rape_ my mother?” It’s hard for her mind not to go there on autopilot after the conversation they’ve just had.

Horrified, Marco immediately straightens in his seat. “No!! No,” he assures, shaking his head. “I have never—would never, rape a woman. But I did kiss her. I also touched her and immediately regretted it. And when your father found out? Let’s just say he put me in my place. My nose was broken, as was my knee. One of my shoulder was dislocated. I was in the hospital for over a month. By then, I’d already become involved with certain… _groups_ …of people around Italy. I had plenty of friends who offered to go after him, but I told them it was family business and they were to remain uninvolved.”

She’s loathe to admit it but she’s entranced with his storytelling. Regina never knew about this and a part of her felt the bittersweet happiness at hearing a story about her parents’ past, even if it was told by this man whom she didn’t know personally but with whom she shared genetic material.

“You can imagine that my pride, my ego, were wounded. I threw myself into my business. I’ve done many things in my life. Some I’m ashamed of. Others? I’d do it again without question. But there was something about Coralia that I could never get out of my head or my heart. She was truly a special being. I was devastated to hear of her passing,” he says as his eyes tear up.

Regina looks down at her fingers the table. She folds them together, and clears her throat. “Mami _was_ special. I don’t know how Daddy went on without her…how _I_ went on without her. It was difficult.”

Marco looks like he’s about to take her hand in his, but he retreats and takes another sip of water instead.

“After that, Henry and I were never the same again. He said while he forgave me, he’d never be able to forget it happened. I felt bitter because he had the perfect woman, and now a baby on the way, and now I no longer had him. I kept tabs on him through the years. I learned what happened to your mother; learned that you went to law school. I even showed up once at his house, to try and talk to him, but Henry wouldn’t listen. He asked me to leave. I said, _‘I want to meet your daughter! She’s my family, too!’_ And I remember,” he laughs sadly, “Henry grabbed me by the shoulders and marched me out of his home, saying I wasn’t welcome there and to stay the hell away from you.”

He finishes the water in his glass and refills it, pouring a little more in hers as well.

“I didn’t see him again until a few years ago. I was in the northeast on business when he called, begging me to loan him some money. He’d gambled everything away, all but his house. I felt so smug, because now _he_ needed _me_. He was desperate, said he had no one else to turn to and if he leveraged the house, you’d find out. He was so proud of you, and he wanted to make you feel proud of him too.” Leaning forward in his seat, he says, “Henry adored you, Regina. There’s nothing he wouldn’t have done for you.”

She whispers that she knows, a tear escaping her eye as she wipes it away with her finger.

She sits up as she realizes. “You didn’t lend him the money?” It’s more of a statement than a question, but nonetheless, Marco shakes his head.

“Are you starting to understand? That’s why he went to your husband.”

Regina doesn’t know what to feel. Shock. Anger. Hurt. Hatred. But what hits her the most is the literal pain of having lost her father as if it had happened _all over again_. This man could have prevented so much misery in her life. Her father would probably even still be alive. In a fraction of a second, her tearstained face transforms into an angered accusatory scowl. “You’re the reason why,” she hisses with disgust. She can feel the headache brewing and she wishes she had some aspirin in her bag.

“Yes,” he confesses. “Yes. That’s why I chose to protect you. I had to. To watch over you from afar, and to ensure you were always safe. To do for you what your father no longer could. It was the least I could do, I owed him that. I owed both of you that!”

The tears fall from her eyes as she blinks. “How the hell have you been following me and for how long?”

His eyes leave hers as his fingers open the briefcase that’s on the table. He pulls out a large envelope and hands it to her. “Open it,” he says. 

 

*.*.*.*

 

“Scarlet, that foot tapping of yours is driving me nuts,” Moe barks at Will. The three men had taken the elevator down to the building’s lobby and were sitting in the armchairs waiting for Geppes to signal he was finished.

Bill ignores them, texting someone on his phone. The _whoosh!_ of a sent message echoes in the quiet area as he stands and says he’s going to the vending machine for some snacks. “You ladies want anything?” he asks.

“How about an Aussie kiss for ya mum,” Will says as Moe’s hand smacks the back of his head.

Bill walks away shaking his head as he hears Moe hiss _Idiot!_ The vending machine refuses his dollar, so he reaches into his pocket for change. As he picks the coins out, his cell phone chirps with an incoming text.

_KILLIAN JONES: Any ETA on her release?_

_BILL SMEE: Not yet but I’ll advise._

_KILLIAN JONES: Thank you, Mr. Smee._

 

_*.*.*.*_

 

Regina is uncomfortable. The envelope seems innocent enough, but the chaos of the afternoon has left her depleted and on edge. Her fingers itch to touch it, and Marco can see her hesitation so he pushes it until it’s in front of her.

“Before you open that, I want you to know something. I loved your father. He was the closest thing I’ve ever had to a brother. I’ve made mistakes in my life, and the ones I’ve been able to right, I have. Inside this envelope is evidence enough to convict me, possibly for life.”

“I don’t understand,” she says shaking her head. “Why would you give this to me?”

“Because I know you don’t trust me and I can’t expect you to. Because I probably don’t deserve to be trusted.” He looks away as he sits back in his chair. His arms fold over his chest. “Wallace Gregory is no longer a threat to you. His body has been disposed of discretely, so he won’t ever come after you.” Her eyes widen at the mortifying confession. “Peter Malcolm also knows nothing. Any records he had with your name on them have been destroyed. The whole thing was a setup anyway, a fake case to get that lunatic away from you. When I learned about Henry’s death, I knew I had to do everything in my power to keep you safe.”

Regina’s lips purse and her nostrils flare. “What about Spencer Gold? Are you behind his assault too?” Why skirt around an issue, she figures. There’s no point now that they’ve gone whole hog on coming clean.

Marco stands and walks around the room before turning back to her. “I am.”

When Regina makes a move to stand as well, he leans forward on the table and says, “I only did it because I know what he’s been doing to you, holding that will over your head and keeping you slave to a life you never wanted to have.”

That does it for her. She also stands and slaps her hands on the table. “I don’t give a damn what he’s been doing to me! I am a grown woman, I am not in need of anyone fighting my battles for me, and most certainly not when they’re being fought illegally! Did it ever occur to you that if I was investigated and they found a connection that tied me back to you, I could get disbarred permanently?”

His guilty expression tells her that he never considered it.

Grabbing her bag, she pulls the strap over her shoulder. “We’re done here, Mr. Geppes. Do not come after me, do not do anything else for me, even if you believe it’s to protect me. I don’t need your protection. Are we clear?”

Marco removes his hands from the table and stands upright. He nods and reaches into his pocket, pulls out a card and slides it toward her. “Please, take it. You may need to get a hold of me someday.”

Regina looks down at it. There are only two lines printed on it: _Coralia Exports_ and a phone number. She eyes him warily then turns on her heel, the _clack-clack_ echoing off the shiny tiled floor. Without turning back, she presses the call button. Her face is neutral as the doors close and she sees what she hopes is the last of Marco Geppes.

The unopened envelope and his card remain untouched side by side on the table.

 

*.*.*.*

 

“I hate to do this, but I’ve been called in,” Killian says apologetically to his friends. “You’ll be alright?” he asks Robin, who nods. “Hang in there, mate.”

Robin hadn’t said much all day. He’d briefly spoken to his son on the phone when he’d called to let his father know they were back from the go-kart park and were going to have dinner soon. “Miss Ariel made meatloaf Dad!”

He’d chuckled wearily, said it sounded delicious and to make sure and eat everything they put on his plate.

“I will. Hey Dad, did Regina come back yet with Uncle Will?”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Robin said, “Not yet, Ro. Soon.”

Robin stares off into space, his body angled on the couch. His hands come up and rub his face. His beard feels so thick and he remembers he hadn’t trimmed it in a few days. Rising, he says to John and Trina that he’s going to take a shower.

“Want us to make dinner or get something?” John offers.

“I’m not hungry, but why don’t you two go out, get yourselves something, yeah? I’d like to be alone.”

Trina pats his cheek and kisses it. “We’ll be back soon. Call if you need anything, or if you hear from her.” He nods at them.

When they leave the house is suddenly _really_ quiet. Robin breathes out as his eardrums ring in the silence. His thoughts are on Regina. Where was she? He’d tried to track her phone but was unable to, which meant it was either off or the battery had died.

He pulls off his shirt and throws it in the hamper, doing the same with his pants and underwear. The floor feels cold on his bare feet, until he reaches the bathroom and steps onto the bath mat. He turns the water on, testing it with his fingers before stepping inside and giving his body a quick lather.

It takes him only a few minutes to finish. Drying himself briskly with his towel, he steps in front of the sink and opens the medicine cabinet for the beard trimmer. He grabs a hand towel from the linen closet and drapes it over the sink to keep the hair from falling in and gets to work cleaning up his beard.

When it’s down to a scruff, he stops and blows on the trimmer. A few sandy hairs fly out and land on the towel. He bunches it up and leaves it on the corner of the sink, making his way to his room again to get dressed.

Returning to the bathroom, he takes the towel with his hair clippings in it and walks out to his yard, giving the towel several vigorous shakes to make sure all the hair is gone. When he’s finished, he returns to his room and drops the towel in the hamper.

John and Trina would be gone for a while, and he hadn’t eaten much all day, so he forces himself to find something to put into his body despite the lack of appetite. He puts a few slices of salami and cheese on a plate and grabs a Coke from the fridge, then sits to eat.

Car lights turn into his driveway and brighten up the darkened living room. Looking out the window, his eyes spot a flash of dark hair stepping out of a vehicle. He jogs to the front door, throws it open, and warm relief floods his body when Regina turns and smiles at him. They run the few feet toward each other, their bodies crash in a tight embrace.

“Oh love, I’ve been so worried,” he breathes deeply into her hair, smelling it while his eyes glaze with tears. “Are you alright?” His voice cracks with emotion and he tastes the salt of his tears on his lips.

“I’m so sorry for scaring you, but I’m fine, I’m not hurt, trust me,” she reassures him as her hands cup his face. “You trimmed your beard.”

The offhand comment makes him laugh. “Yeah, a little while ago. Come on.” He takes her hand and wraps his arm around her shoulder. “I want to hear everything.” Regina nods as they walk into his home, her arm also wrapped firmly around his waist.

 

*.*.*.*

 

Killian arrives in Hallandale and parks in the garage. He spots Geppes’ car and makes his way inside. Mr. Smee is waiting for him in the lobby.

“Where’s the lady?”

“She asked Scarlet to drop her off at the nearest mall. I heard her say something about taking an Uber home.”

“And the boss?”

“Upstairs. French and Scarlet are cleaning things up.”

They walk to the elevator. When the doors open, Killian smirks. The first thing he sees is Will Scarlet polishing the wood of a large oval table in the room. They’d never liked each other, and Will often considered ratting him out to Robin. He ought to know his roommate and best friend pretended to be a detective by day while he moonlighted for the mob on the side. “Missed a spot there, Helen,” Killian mocks and points at the table as Will gives him a salute with his middle finger.

“Forgot your makeup today, eh princess?”

Killian ignores him and walks over to Geppes, clearing his throat when he reaches him. They make sure to speak in hushed tones. “How’d it go?”

“She wants nothing to do with me,” Marco says.

“In all fairness, it’s a lot of information to process. Give her some time. She’ll come around.”

“Perhaps. How are you, old friend?”

“I’ve had better days,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t like having to lie to my best mate.”

“I know, and it will be over soon.”

“Did she take the paperwork?”

“No.” This surprises Killian. When Marco informed him about his plan, his first instinct was to try and convince him it was a terrible idea.

“Wish you’d have let me bring her to you instead of that git Scarlet,” he says, giving Will a dirty look over his shoulder.

“You needed to stay undercover, and still do for the time being. I need you to keep watching her for me.”

“Does she know I’m the one doing so?”

Marco shakes his head. “No. I tried to explain but she looked exhausted and fed up. I can’t say I blame her. When she said she was leaving, I didn’t bother to try and stop her. I needed the break myself.”

“This might actually work in our favor though, since she’s upset with you right now. She doesn’t suspect me.” He leans in closer and whispers, “Did you tell her about Gold?”

It had been a big risk for Killian paying off a street gang to beat up Spencer Gold on behalf of Marco Geppes. He’d had to carefully orchestrate everything since David had been with him that day.

“No, she figured it out on her own. I’m sorry for having put you into this position.”

“I owe you my life, Marco. You took me in when I had no one. Anything I can do to help you or your family, I vow I’ll do. But Robin’s a good man, an honest man. He’s utterly besotted with her and he’s spent the day worried sick. I almost caved.”

“Almost?”

“I may have shown him an article in the news, an old one. From when that moron posted your bail several years back,” he says throwing Will a dirty look. 

“Did you say or show him anything else?”

“No sir. But it felt awful to hide it.”

Marco nods in understanding, but says, “Can I trust you to keep quiet a little longer? Just keep an eye on her for me, Killian. Unobtrusively. Can you do that?”

“Of course,” Killian promises.

 

*.*.*.*

 

“Yes Roly, I’m alright. Your uncle got a brand new car and wanted to take me for a ride in it and I forgot to take the phone charger out of my car,” she says to his son as Robin’s fingers slide through her hair. He’s pressed up next to her on the couch. He can’t stop touching her, and he won’t stop either, not unless she asks him to. He’s trying to make sure she really is safe and there are no marks on her, no evidence that anything bad had actually happened while she was gone, and that she wasn’t putting on a brave face.

They’d walked in after the Uber had dropped her off, and heard Robin’s phone ringing as Lola yelped excitedly and jumped up to greet her. It was Roland calling again, so Robin handed the device to her and said _it’s for you._

“Well, I’m very sorry I scared everyone, honey. I really am,” she says. He smiles when she pouts at whatever Roland’s said, even though his son can’t see her.

She looks exhausted. He takes her in, notes her wrinkled clothes and the dark circles under her eyes. His eyes narrow when he sees a light purple bruise on one of her wrists and as soon as she ends the call, he holds it up, tracing his finger along the mark.

“You promised me you were okay, so how do you explain this?”

One of her eyebrows goes up. “Have you forgotten you tied me up this morning?” She smiles as he lets out a breath of relief and kisses the mark gently.

“I need to be more careful then.”

“I’m not a princess encased in glass, you know.”

“I know you aren’t, but fuck if I haven’t had a trying day, doing my damnedest not to picture awful things happening to you.”

“Robin, would you explain something to me?”

“I’ll try,” he says tentatively.

“Why does Will call you ‘ _Robino’_?”

The way she says it, emphasizing the B, is hilarious. His shoulders shake with unexpected laughter. “It was his pathetic attempt at humor when we were younger. He thought it’d be funny since my last name is Locksley.”

Regina shakes her head. “I don’t get it.”

“It’s not Ro-bea-no, it’s Rob-in-oh. Robino Locksley? Robin _of_ Locksley?”

Her eyes roll up so far, he can see the whites. “That’s pretty pathetic,” she agrees.

“Where did you see that, darling?”

“His phone. That’s how you’re listed.”

Taking his hand in hers, she repeats the same words for what feels like the thirtieth time. “Babe, I’m _fine_. He didn’t hurt me. No one did. Will’s job was to bring me to Marco Geppes.” She knows how anxious Robin’s been all day, if his not letting go of her since she got back is any indication. She’s certainly _not_ going to mention that Will drugged her with chloroform, since that would push him over the edge.

“What did Geppes want with you?”

“Oh, he shared quite the story. I don’t know if I’m ready for a complete retelling tonight, but I will say this: he was never trying to harm me, Robin. He was actually trying to…protect me.”

He looks into her warm brown eyes and bumps his nose to hers. “If he doesn’t know that’s my job, I’d be happy to have more than a conversation.”

She takes his arms off her and when he frowns, she shifts her body over his, one leg coming around his other side as she straddles him. Her arms go around his shoulders.

“Why this sudden jealousy, hm?” Robin refuses to look at her, his eyes dart around the room, but she takes his face in her hands and kisses him. “Talk to me,” she whispers, as she dots kisses all over his face. Her lips ghost over his lips, cheeks, forehead and he closes his eyes when she presses a featherlight kiss to each lid.

When he opens them, she can see the sadness. “Hey, what is it?”

He runs his hands along her thighs, then up her back, pressing her forward, bringing her closer to him until their lips meet again. They break with a soft _pop_ and he sighs. “I once caught Will…fooling around…with Marian.”

Regina sits up quickly. “Seriously?” Because now that she’s met them both and held conversations with each, she can’t picture it.

“Roland wasn’t even a year old yet. I’d gone out for some nappies—Pampers,” he clarifies when she looks confused. “Will had been staying with us for a while. He’d been hired temporarily at a job in the City, and I,” he laughs dryly. “I never suspected anything. He and Marian joked often, and sometimes he’d playfully tickle her waist, but I never thought anything of it. That day though, I forgot my wallet at home. Didn’t know it until I was about to pay, so I apologized to the cashier, asked her to hold the nappies for me, and ran back home. I caught Will kneeling between her thighs on the couch.”

“ _This_ couch?” Regina deadpans, wrinkling her nose. 

“No. We bought this one when we moved in.”

Regina shakes her head. “My personal opinion on Marian isn’t any better than it’s been thus far. She’s vile.”

“Indeed. And now she’s demanding this house and custody of my son,” he scoffs angrily.

“Which she won’t ever get, that bitch. I must admit, I can’t say I cared much for Will Scarlet either.”

“Oh no? Why’s that, darling?”

She’s about to start that part of her story when John and Trina come in, thrilled to see her. Trina embraces her awkwardly after she’s gotten up and off Robin’s lap, and John says he’s glad to see she’s fine.

They ask her what happened, but Robin steers the conversation by admitting, “I don’t mean to be rude but we’re actually both exhausted. It’s been a very long day. Another time perhaps?”

As if on cue, Regina yawns and says _sorry_ behind her fingers.

John puts his arm around Trina’s shoulders as they say good night and tell her again it’s good to see she’s alright.

Robin locks up after them, and rubs a palm against his eye. He looks at the clock on the wall closest to the kitchen. “It’s just after nine but my body feels like it’s three in the morning.” Holding his hand out to her, she takes it and he leads her around the house, shutting off any lights left on.

“Oh, I should let Lola out before we go to sleep.”

He kisses her and says, “I’ll do it. You go and get ready for bed, yeah?” She nods in gratitude, kisses him again then lets go of his hand as he watches her walk into his bathroom and shut the door behind her.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks so much for reading, commenting and sharing this story. This chapter was not run through a beta so any errors are mine. Happy reading! 
> 
> ***FYI: There is some very light, mild anal play in this chapter. Don't say I didn't warn you. ;)***

The ringing doorbell echoed outside the Gold’s home. Robin stood on the personalized welcome mat that read _Happy Holidays from the Gold Family_ in fancy brush script lettering.

He looked casually from left to right. The property was expansive, though not as large as Regina’s home, but it was close. The sound of locks being turned made him look back to the front door as it opened. There stood Belle Gold.

“Hello, may I help you?”

Robin looked at her, and smiled warmly. It’d been so long since they’d seen each other, and she doesn’t seem to recognize him.

“Hello, um, you might not remember me. I’m Will Scarlet’s stepbrother, Robin Locksley?”

Her face lit up in recognition, as she stepped over the threshold, arms extended to welcome him in an embrace. “Robbie?! Of course I remember you. Oh goodness, it’s been so long—how have you been? Come in,” she motioned with her hand, “please. Will is out running a quick errand for me but he should be back any minute now,” she said.

Robin thanked her as he stepped inside the foyer, politely waiting as she shut the heavy door. She chats pleasantly as she walks into the home, motioning that he follow her to a sitting area. Robin looks around at the decor of the room, plush furniture featuring handsomely carved wooden legs. Everything is a combination of dark wood, dark, lush colors, and glass. There was even a glossy black piano in one corner of the room by the windows. The whole place screamed wealth and Robin felt uncomfortable.

“Would you like something to drink?” Belle asked, interrupting his thoughts. “We’ve got anything you could possible like: water, soft drinks, coffee—or some tea perhaps? Please, have a seat. Robbie, I still can’t believe it’s you!” She’s beaming with excitement and Robin smiles again, shaking his head.

“No, I’m fine thank you. It _has_ been a long time, Pip. I didn’t even know you lived in this city until recently.”

“Mm-hmm. Been here a few years now, after I met my husband.” She frowns and murmurs, “I’m sorry he’s not here so I could introduce you. He’s been sick in hospital.”

Robin mustered as much sincerity as he could under the circumstances, maintaining his composure without grimacing. “I’m very sorry to hear that.” He would keep his personal opinion about Gold, that the man was a sleaze with no morals, to himself.

It was obvious being in his ornate home that Gold would do anything for money and the realization hit Robin square in the gut, making him uncomfortable. So much so that he almost lost his nerve. Maybe he was in over his head.

Then he remembered the anger, dread and panic at knowing Will had taken Regina, as his mind flashed images of Will and Marian and his jaw tensed.

“Will left me a message a few weeks back and I hadn’t been able to return the call. You know how busy life can get.” He smiled warmly at Belle, almost feeling guilty, but he pressed on. “These days I’m raising my son, Roland, and I work. You’d think I had my weekends free and clear, but Roland’s always got some activity happening with his friends. Do you have children, Pip?” Robin looked at her expectantly and felt a rock in the pit of his stomach. He’d clearly said something that upset her.

She was looking down at her hands in her lap, folded so tensely her knuckles were white rounds. “No.” She cleared her throat before continuing. “Will’s been keeping me company for a little while. You know, just until my husband recovers and comes home.”

Robin nodded, suddenly feeling foolish and awkward. His doubt continued to rise. Maybe this was a mistake? It’d been over fifteen years since he’d seen Pip, and he’d never kept in touch. He’d mostly seen Will since they’d moved to the States, but ever since the encounter in New York with Marian, he hadn’t heard from him in years.

But now, Robin knew the truth: Will had been hiding the fact that he was working for the Italian mob, for Marco Geppes himself—while occasionally accepting contractual, legitimate work so he stayed under the radar. If there was ever any suspicion raised, Will would claim he was between jobs. The lucky bastard always had a friend or family member willing to take him in temporarily until he got back on his feet with new work. As a result, suspicions came and went away silently, never coming to fruition.

Robin wasn’t letting this go, because although none of this had been confirmed yet, he knew he wasn’t going to let Will get away with kidnapping, even if it meant his own ass was dragged into danger with the mob. Robin wouldn’t dare get involved if it hadn’t been for Regina; after she’d told him the whole story, Robin begun piecing things together, trying to solve the puzzle.

What he still couldn’t understand was why Will had gotten involved with Marian that day. Not because he cared anymore, but because he couldn’t get the image of Will doing the same with Regina, and no matter how much Regina had sworn to him that nothing like that happened, or ever would, Robin was still tense. He felt like a bomb was ready to go off inside him. Truthfully, he’d wanted to beat the shit out of Will Scarlet for a long time, and considering he’d done nothing after finding him with Marian, Robin felt Will deserved to be bloody beaten.

“Ah, yes, that’s very noble of Will to do—to be here for you,” Robin said. 

“Well he should be here any minute now, I assume. He’s been here almost two months now, Robbie. I find it odd you two hadn’t gotten together sooner. But I suppose with your schedule and all…” Her voice trailed off as she chuckled nervously.

Robin kept his smile and demeanor in check and polite. If Pip knew what he was planning, she’d never have let him into her home. But Robin had come this far and he wasn’t going to be deterred.

Instead, he chose to deviate from Will for the moment, and touched her shoulder gently. “How’s your family, Pip? Mum? Your father?”

At the mention of her parents, Belle’s smile vanished, her posture slumped. “Mother passed away seven years ago, Robbie. And I’m afraid I don’t have much of a relationship with my father.” He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze and whispered his condolences. “You remember she’d been sick a long time, Robbie, don’t you?”

He did. As a little girl, Belle often retreated from the family, preferring quiet moments of solitude whenever she got them. On more than one occasion, Robin had followed her to the nearby public library. There was a section on the opposite side of the building that was always empty and quiet, so quiet Robin’s ears hummed when he found himself dwarfed by tall shelves, the smell of old books pungent, but not unwelcoming.

On one afternoon, he’d heard a sniffle and as he got closer to the sound, he saw Belle’s bony elbows on the armrests of a tattered, old armchair. Her feet were up on the chair opposite it, which was facing Robin. The one she sat in had been turned around, so it was faced the windows outside.

It’d been late autumn and the trees were almost bare. Robin heard her sniffle again, and when he’d stood before her, he knelt and took her face in his hands. It was red and wet with tears. A thick book sat on her lap, untouched. Her fingers lightly traced the cover. Belle hadn’t been startled by Robin’s sudden presence, nor had she been upset that he’d found her.

Robin had given her a questioning look, and that was all it’d taken for her to throw her arms around him, the book falling from her lap onto the floor with a dull thud.

“She’s dying, Robbie. The doctors said it’s lymphoma, and there’s nothing we can do,” she sobbed against his chest.

That afternoon, Robin stayed with Belle over an hour in that cold library, letting her cry. He’d held her, said everything would be alright, even though he knew it wasn’t true but he hadn’t known what else to say.

The memory had transported him back to that sad day and the moment they’d shared long ago.

Pip was the little sister Robin had never had. And he’d done a shit job of keeping in touch with her. And now he was about to fuck things up between them again, wasn’t he?

“Thank you. It was a long time ago,” she whispered taking his hand and squeezing tightly. He didn’t miss how her eyes watered slightly. He squeezed right back, letting her know he was there for her.

They’d called her Pip because she always wore her red hair in braided pigtails, just like _Pippi Longstocking_ , and though they called her _Pippi_ at first, she’d told them if they insisted on nicknaming her, she preferred a shortened version of the name, knowing it was a term of endearment and not mockery.

“I haven’t spoken to Father in over twelve years,” she remarked, bringing them both to the present. “You may remember, he didn’t always have the best judgment when it came to business and the people he often kept as friends.”

Robin nodded in understanding, as his eyes continued to scan his surroundings. Thick, dark purple drapes hung from rods, and at each end of the rod were gargoyles, sculpted from the wood. Several picture frames also hung on the wall, mostly photographs of a young Belle standing next to her mother, who was painfully thin and in a wheelchair. Another photograph showed Belle with Spencer Gold. Robin’s face heated with anger. _Control yourself, calm down._ Gold was wearing a suit, and his arm locked around Belle’s waist. It looked like some kind of black tie event or gala since she too was wearing a dark gown that hugged her curves.

“Oh, that’s Spencer, my husband,” she explained as she caught Robin looking at the photographs.

They’d built a mantle over the electric fireplace where the furniture faced. Robin wondered how often they lit it, considering it rarely got cold this far south. Something caught his attention on the mantle and he got up to take a closer look.

It was a small photo, wallet sized in a very small frame. A slow smiled spread across his face. “I remember this,” he said affectionately, pointing at it. “We took that photo at the booth on the pier.”

In the photo were three teenagers: a very young Robin with no facial hair, a young Will with long hair and an unlit cigarette dangling from his thin lips, and a preteen Belle in her pigtails and large glasses. Their silly expression made Robin chuckle. The picture had been taken several days before Belle had found out her mother was terminally ill.

She spoke from across the room. “So how have you been Robin? Are you married? And where do you live now?”

“Off Coral Way, near Coconut Grove. I bought a house there years ago. I have a son, Roland, who’s almost seven,” he said.

“Oh? Will never mentioned you’d been married, or even that you’d had a son,” she said. “Did something happen between you two?”

Robin’s heart hammered in his chest, but he kept up his facade and smiled pleasantly. It was best to keep his emotions in check, so he corrected her. “I’m actually separated.”

“Oh Robin, I’m very sorry to hear that. Really very sorry.”

There’s no point mentioning what happened between Will and Marian. “It’s alright. Things happen sometimes, and marriages fall apart. But I’m uh…I’m afraid Will and I _did_ have a falling out. But Pip, I hope you don’t take offense to this, it’s very personal, and I’d prefer to discuss it directly with him.”

“Is that why you’re here then? To try and mend fences?”

Robin’s jaw tensed automatically. He forced himself to remain pleasant and coolly neutral. He wasn’t going to give anything away. “Yes,” he said through gritted teeth, crossing one ankle over his knee.

Belle gave him a dubious look. “I hope you’re not going to fight. I’ve been on light bedrest for a few weeks.”

“Bedrest?” Robin asked dumbly. This didn’t sound good.

“Yeah, see, I uh, had a…” Belle shifted uncomfortably and she swatted her hands, waving off her words. “You know, Robbie, it’s not important. Why don’t you tell me more about your son?”

Robin started to say something but was cut off by Will, who’d just arrived. “Pip?” he called out.

“Piano room!”

Will was speaking to her as if they were alone in the house. He was saying that the store didn’t have Boston Creme donuts so he’d bought her the chocolate frosted kind instead. When he saw Robin, Will stopped dead in his tracks.

“Oi, well blast me stars, it’s Robino! How’ve you been mate?”

Robin willed himself to calm down. He knew Will would pull this stunt—pretend they hadn’t spoken on the phone only a week ago when he’d taken Regina from his own home.

“I’ve been great, Will. Can’t complain. Listen, _mate_ , I need a word with you. In private, please. Can we go somewhere?”

Will eyed Belle and Robin for a beat before sprinting back to the front door. He ran out to the sidewalk, turning left.

Robin bolted from his chair and chased after him, ignoring Belle’s shrieks. She was calling out, “Will? Robin? What’s going on?” 

Her shouts become fainter as Robin ran after Will. After a few blocks, he finally caught up with him, leaping out to tackle him to the ground.

Robin grabbed Will’s arms and turned him over. He brought his right arm back and closed his fist.

“Oi, I never hurt her, Robino, I swear it! Didn’t lay one finger on her! She tell you I did something, eh?” Will asked, panting heavily, just as Robin’s fist landed squarely on his nose, the unmistakable crunch of broken bone heard. Blood immediately poured from Will’s nostrils as he shouted, “ _OW!! Fucking hell, asshole!!_ ”

Through gritted teeth, Robin stuck a finger in his face. “If you _ever_ come near Regina again, or anyone else I care about, I’ll do more than break your nose, Will Scarlet. _Mark my words_.” He kicked Will’s ribs for good measure just before Belle made it to them. They all panted harsh breaths, Will’s weak voice reminding Belle she shouldn’t be running. Robin stood upright, his knuckles had blood on them. Belle took in lungfuls of air as she pushed Robin backwards. 

“ _Robin_!! Have you _lost_ your mind?! What have you done?” She screamed in his face. Robin wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

“He’ll be fine,” he grunted as Will spit out some blood, then began to walk back to the house as Belle and Will watched him go. He heard Belle ask Will what happened, but the other man told her nothing.

Robin heard him say, “Pip, let’s get ya back into the house, eh? You shouldn’t have run out after us.”

“Tell me what’s happening, Will! What would warrant him going crazy like that? What did you do to him?”

“I fucked up, Pip. Fucked up bad and Robbie’s angry. I’ve had it coming a long time. He should have beat me a long time ago.” Will spit more blood out.

“I don’t understand,” Belle cried, heartbroken. “We’re family.”

“No, Pip. We ain’t no family. Now, let’s get you back to the house, yeah? Come on. You shouldn’t be out here.”

Robin heard their entire conversation but never once looked back at either of them. He got in his car and drove home as quickly as he could, flexing his fingers and sore, bloody knuckles. He’d put some antiseptic on them later. 

 

*.*.*.*

 

 _That was very stupid_ , he scolded himself. _There was no need to have gone after Will, much less to have beat him. Regina’s fine. Nothing happened when she met with Marco Geppes._

But Robin’s ego had insisted on payback, and if he was honest with himself, he’d wanted to punch Will ever since he’d caught him with Marian in his own fucking home.

Part of him considered going back and apologizing to Pip, but he couldn’t do it because he knew he’d behaved terribly. She’d been kind and welcoming, and he’d upset her. So he drove on, leaving Belle Gold and Will Scarlet with their own problems. Besides, what he needed most right now was to cool himself off.

If John found out what he’d done, he’d have forced Robin to schedule a session with Dr. Hopper this week. He’d told no one he was going to see Will, but he couldn’t let him get away with this one. Robin hadn’t felt so much fear as when Regina had been taken, and it was all he could think about.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins and having broken Will’s nose, and maybe bruised a rib or two, wasn’t enough to make him feel better. He was close to a high school, so he drove in and parked in the visitor lot. Good thing it was Saturday afternoon and school wasn’t in session.

Robin rubbed his eyes with his palms, wishing he was anywhere but here. He needed fresh air in his lungs, and a clear head.

He got out of the car and jogged over to the track, spending the next half hour running until his lungs burned. He was covered in sweat when he got back to his car and drove to a nearby gas station for a bottle of water. He drank the cool liquid as he leaned against the hood of his car.

A chirp sounded in his pocket, his phone’s screen announced a new text. It was a video message from Roland and Regina using a filter. Snapchat maybe? Robin wasn’t much into the latest technical trends, but he knew the two of them had been playing around with photo filters for a few days. He smiled at the screen; they’re both wearing puppy masks, laughing at the camera. Roland’s voice calls out, “Hey Dad! Hope you’re coming home soon. Miss ya!”

Robin took another drink and slumped into the driver’s seat of his car, hoping Regina wouldn’t be too upset about it when he told her what he’d done.

 

*.*.*.*

 

A week later, Robin was still waiting to tell her. They’d stayed at her house that weekend, and Roland had fallen asleep watching a movie with Lola, after spending hours swimming in the heated pool. The pair were now curled up together on an enormous beanbag chair that Regina had bought for his room. She’d thrown a warm blanket over them and closed the door.

She’d been stirring sauce in a giant pot, adding ingredients slowly. “Taste this,” she said to Robin, offering him a tiny bit of sauce. “I think it needs a little more salt, wouldn’t you say?”

“Mmm, yes maybe just a pinch, babe. Don’t want to overdo it,” he murmured as he kissed her cheek softly. “More wine?”

“Please,” she smiled gratefully, adding a microscopic amount of salt to the sauce, stirring it slowly before lowering the heat down to a simmer and covering the pot. “I’m sorry we’re eating so late,” she sighed happily at him.

Regina had received a call from Daniel that afternoon. Interpol had finally caught up with Zelena Greene-Whitfield and her Aunt Maude outside of Cambodia. Both had been arrested and flown back to Texas, awaiting trial for grand theft and fraud.

Daniel had been trying to convince August Booth to press charges against Zelena, since she’d been responsible for his assault, but Booth was dragging his feet. According to Daniel, he wanted to forget the whole ordeal, and Regina couldn’t blame him.

They agreed she would fly to Houston for the trial, to testify as a witness and the sole heir of her great uncle’s fortune that Zelena and her aunt had attempted to steal. The phone call had gone on well over an hour, since Daniel had emailed her a copy of August Booth’s final report, and he’d wanted to discuss it point by point, giving her the opportunity to ask any questions.

Robin had come into her office a few times to check on her. The last time he’d brought her a glass of wine, and she’d mouthed _Sorry_ to him, but he’d shaken his head and mouthed back _It’s fine, love_ , then kissed the crown of her head and squeezed her arm.

She’d planned on making homemade spaghetti and meatballs that night, but she hadn’t even preheated the oven yet when Roland started whining he was hungry. Robin took him out for dinner, saying Regina was on a very important phone call. Of all things, his son said he wanted chicken pad Thai.

“Since when do you eat _that_?” Robin asked, baffled.

“Since Mary Margaret let me have some this one time after school when you were working late. She made me chicken nuggets too, but her dinner smelled better so I asked her if I could have a taste,” Roland smiled charmingly. Robin had to hand it to his son; the kid seemed to know he had a certain quality that made it hard to say no to him. 

Robin laughed and tousled his son’s hair, then said, “It’s getting long. We’ll have to go to the barber shop soon.”

They returned from getting Roland’s dinner to find Regina was still on the phone. Roland walked up to her and whispered _excuse me_. She asked Daniel to hold on, and looked at Roland. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“Nothing. I wanted to give you a kiss is all.”

He planted a loud smack on her cheek, making her smile widely and say, “I love you, Roly.”

Walking out of her office, Roland called over his shoulder, “Love you, too, Regi!”

Now it was just her and Robin in the kitchen as she worked on their dinner. The house was a little too quiet, so she cued up her music library and hit play, bringing Annie Lennox’s _Big Sky_ softly to life.

“Here, would you taste it again?” she asked as she stirred the sauce and brought the spoon back to Robin’s lips.

“Mmm, now it’s perfect,” he said kissing her, his hand gently patting her rear end.

Robin went about setting the table while Regina served their dinner plates, handing each one to him carefully so he could walk it over to the table. Before sitting down, the peeped into the guest room-turned Roland’s room. The boy is sleeping soundly, so they return to the dining room for dinner.

Digging in, they’re silent until Robin murmurs that it’s delicious and thanks her for cooking.

Regina quirks an eyebrow at him. “Is something wrong?”

Setting his utensils down, he angles his head, shaking it slightly. “No. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. You seem quiet tonight, like you’ve got something on your mind.”

He looks down at his plate and takes the linen napkin, wiping the corners of his mouth before leaning closer to her. He whispers in her ear. “Well, I _do_ have something on my mind.”

“Care to share what that might be?”

“I could tell you but I’d rather _show_ you. You see, I’m wondering how many times I’ll be able to make you come for me tonight.”

Regina bites her lip and smiles as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, her head shaking. “You’re…you’re…”

“I’m what?”

“Incorrigible!” Regina finishes.

Feigning disbelief, Robin whispered, “I thought that’s what you liked about me.”

“Roland is here!” she hisses.

“And he’s asleep. Besides we’ve had sex before plenty of times with him sleeping a few doors down. This is even better; he’s on the other side of the house.”

Angling her chin down, Regina asks him if he’s not worried his son could have walked in this very moment and heard him saying that.

Robin shakes his head. “No darling. He’s snoring like a bear. With all the playing he did today, he’ll be out until tomorrow morning. I know my son.”

“He doesn’t snore like a bear, Robin!” she admonishes playfully as Robin’s hands start exploring the skin on her thighs.

Somewhere he’s feeling remorse and shame, like he should stall. Robin wants to tell her about Will, but he’s afraid of what the revelation will bring. The truth is that the more the days have passed since having finally punched Will Scarlet, the more remorseful he’s begun to feel.

Their day has been pleasant, and the last few weeks, in fact, had been very peaceful. After they learned about Marco Geppes, he no longer seemed to pose a threat. True to his word, Geppees hadn’t attempted further contact with Regina. It was almost as if he’d vanished back to wherever he’d come from.

Kathryn Nolan had been in touch with Robin, letting him know that they should meet in the next week before she filed her response to Marian’s petitions. They were fast approaching the deadline to respond to Marian’s demands.

Robin was not giving her custody of Roland. Those were the first words out of his mouth when Kathryn mentioned she was working on the first draft. Robin asked Regina about Kathryn, but she admitted she didn’t know her well, only little tidbits of office gossip that came from a slightly inebriated Mal when they’d gone for drinks. But Mal had assured Regina that Kathryn was competent and capable, and Regina in turn reassured Robin.

“Come on,” Regina said. “Let’s clean up and check in on your son once more before we head to bed.”

Roland and Lola were still sleeping soundly, and before Robin left the room, he turned on the small nightlight Regina kept by the door, shutting it quietly.

They took their glasses and Robin grabbed a fresh bottle of wine and twirled the bottle opener in his fingers before tucking it into his back pocket, flashing a charming smile at Regina.

“I do love how…dexterous you are with those fingers of yours,” she whispered seductively, chuckling.

“It’s always my pleasure, milady, trust me,” he winked, leading her to the other side of the house. 

Once inside her room, Robin locked the door and put his hands on her hips, lightly squeezing them.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he murmured in her ear, nipping her lobe as her skin erupts in goosebumps.

“Mmm… What is it?”

Robin pulls a tie out of his other back pocket, and runs it through his fingers. “It’s _two_ surprises, really. I’m going to cover your eyes, if that’s alright.”

“So I won’t be able to see my second surprise?” she giggled.

“It’s not meant to be seen, darling. It’s meant to be _felt_.” His hands slide back to her ass, pulling her closer to him as his hands and hips move in tandem, rubbing her center slightly against his hardening length.

“Mmmmm, I approve,” she purred. “I think I’m gonna like this.”

Smiling, Robin turns Regina around, bringing the tie over her eyes. It’s one of her favorites: a navy and gold abstract pattern resembling tiny bows and arrows on a black background.

He’d sometimes have secret fantasies like this, blindfolding a woman, after he’d read somewhere that restricting vision heightens sensations. Marian had let him do it once, but when he got a little too excited while sucking her nipples, she’d shrieked and pulled away, chastising that he’d hurt her.

Regina didn’t mind a little roughness though, and he loved that. He would never hurt her; his tastes weren’t that dark, but he was certainly curious, and she was, so far, always willing to indulge him. Robin has grown to suspect that he’s probably the most adventurous lover she’s ever had, but refuses to ask her. He doesn’t want to sound pathetic or insecure.

Instead, he does what he always does: goes with it, fully prepared to stop if she tells him to. “Tell me straight away if I’m hurting you, love.”

Regina murmurs _okay_.

Robin knows from his sessions with Dr. Hopper that this is classic avoidance behavior at it’s finest, and he feels a twinge of guilt rise but he quickly pushes it down. 

Skimming her arms, his hands slide along the fabric of her blouse as they move to her clavicle. He caresses her skin, his hands dip lower to cup her breasts before he starts undoing the buttons one slowly.

He whispers in her ear then against her neck, his lips light as a feather and making her shiver. “Stop me if it’s too much.”

Slipping the silky blouse off her arms, Robin dots kisses along her shoulder blades as his fingers move the bra straps down. He undoes the clasp on her bra and lets it slip to the floor. His fingers delicately coast along her bare back.

Robin’s hands graze her arms again, before they return to her breasts. When his fingers begin to tug her nipples a little more forcefully, Regina leans back into him, one arm coming up behind his neck to tug at his hair.

She lets out a heavy, shuddering exhale as Robin’s fingers continue wandering over her body, tracing her ribcage, slipping further down teasingly until they stumble upon the button and zipper of her pants. “May I,” he asks politely, and she says nothing but pushes her ass back into his crotch. Robin moves quickly, pushing her pants down and biting his lip when he sees she’s wearing a navy colored lace thong.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy babe.” His hands palm her ass again and he falls to his knees behind her, planting kisses on each firm cheek. “And might I add, your underwear complements my tie perfectly,” he murmurs against the skin of her ass. Her chuckle become breathless with anticipation as his hand skims along the inside of her thigh delicately, teasing her entrance over the underwear, but avoiding touching her exactly where she wants and needs.

Regina’s knees start to tremble in anticipation, as Robin’s fingers ghost near her folds without actually touching them. He enjoys teasing her, and she does too, but nonetheless a frustrated groan escapes her lips.

Standing, Robin takes her hand and leads her to the bed. He turns her around and says, “I want you on all fours, love. Are you alright with that?”

“Mmm-hmmm,” she sighs, “But um, I don’t know…Roland could walk in…” she trails off.

“Nonsense babe, he’s out. You’re tense and I want to help,” he says reassuringly,asRegina moves on top of the bed, on her hands and knees. His hand caresses her spine as she moves and once she’s done moving, he pulls her thong down, lifting each leg as he removes it.

His hands continue to wander along her skin the entire time, and the only place he keeps touching her is her breasts, tugging on her nipples, alternating between hard and soft tugs. He caresses her ass as he whispers _Lean forward_. Her ass is in the air before him, and he can see the wetness glistening at her apex.

“Robin, I need more, please,” she whines.

Licking her folds teasingly, but avoiding her clit, he murmurs, “Like that?”

“ _Fuck_ ,” she says, nodding. “Yes, but I need _more_.”

He swipes two fingers through her nether lips and they come away drenched. Bringing them to his mouth he sucks, murmuring, “Mmmm, you always taste so incredible, love. So sweet. Sit back on your heels for me, would you?”

He helps keep her steady and once she’s set, he kneels in front of her. Her arms instinctively come up over his shoulders. The backs of his fingers strum her hard nipples again firmly. “ _Robinnn_ …” He lets go of her, hands coming around her waist and pulling her closer to him as he closes his mouth around a hardened peak and sucks firmly, making her cry out.

Hanging onto his shoulders, she swivels her hips upward seeking friction but he leans back, away from her. She frowns and he explains, “I want your legs open.”

“They are,” she snaps in frustration.

“Not like this.”

“You just said—”

“I want you on my face, babe,” he says cutting her off.

A slow smile erupts on her face as she bites her bottom lip, making Robin chuckle. “Oh. Happy to.”

He lies on his back, guiding her thighs until her knees are next to his ears. “Hold onto the headboard, love,” Robin says, guiding her arms now to reach forward.

She leans forward then stops. “Oh god, Robin, I don’t want to hit you in the face.”

“You won’t,” he chuckles. “Trust me.” Regina relaxes after a moment as he guides her hips down to his waiting mouth and tongue.

Regina leans forward a little more, gripping the headboard so hard her knuckles are white. She moves her hips, feeling herself slide against him. “Like this?”

His answer is a moan as his fingers grip her ass firmly, squeezing, encouraging her rhythm. His tongue laps at her, delving deep into her center as he moves her hips around in a circular motion, his mouth moving with her, never letting her go. Regina cants her hips forward, trying to get his lips back on her clit, and lets out a loud gaspof shaking when Robin’s hand slaps the firm flesh of her ass, surprising herself when she groans in pleasure.

“ _Oh my god_ ,” she says as Robin lifts her a little.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, licking a long firm line through her folds. His tongue ends on her clit, taking it between his lips and sucking gently. The tip of his tongue taps right on it, making her squirm.

“No, feels good, you feel _so good_ , licking me slowly like that,” Regina exhales, moaning when he slides two fingers inside. Her head falls against her forearm, resting on the headboard. “God Robin, you’re going to make me come, _ungh!_ Yeah, just like that, _oh…ohhh that’s so goooood! Right there, don’t stop!! Keep going!!!_ ”

He’s found her spot and is thumping against it at just the right angle while his tongue flutters on her clit. Regina tries to keep her hips from bucking but it’s almost impossible because it’s too much. She’s so sensitive. Her orgasm is _so fucking close_.

His fingers go from firm thumps to a swift scissor-like motion. Regina gasps as Robin brings his other hand to her center, gliding his thumb on her clit before dipping into her wetness, and he slides it all the way back over her ass, teasing the puckered opening as his lips reclaim her clit. She shatters her into a violent orgasm. He holds her thighs down with his forearms as best as he can while her hips buck wildly.

He stretches his neck to reach her, his tongue reaching out to taste the wetness coming from her. “Easy babe. I’d love a lick, you taste so fucking good.” His stubble is drenched with her, and he loves it.

As she comes down from her high, he helps her scoot down so they’re face to face.

“You alright staying blindfolded?”

“I’m perfectly fine,” she says, then adds, “Not being able to see was…hot.”

Their lips reach toward one another in an open mouth kiss, as their heads tilt slightly. Robin catches her off guard when he swipes three fingers gently through her slick core, and releases her lips with a pop. Bringing his fingers to her lips, Regina can smell her arousal.

“Open up, babe, see how good you taste.” She moans when she tastes herself on them. “That’s it. Lick yourself from my fingers.” When she’s licked his fingers clean, he dips them into her again and brings them up to his own lips, making loud sucking noises. “So fucking good, delicious. I’m going to eat you out again later. After we’ve both come.”

Her lips quiver as she leans forward into him, her nipples puckering.

He plucks one between his fingers then bends his head to suckle each one. _She’ll be mad soon, though, once I tell her what happened._ But Robin brushes the thought off, pulling her into his arms as he dots kisses on his jaw. His erection presses into her thighs and he groans. Regina smiles. “How do you do it, Robin? You go from hot to sweet and now this. You realize you’re pretty amazing yourself, right?”

“Sometimes, but…it’s always wonderful hearing it,” he says as she swats his chest playfully. “Especially when it comes from you, babe.”

She leans her head on his shoulder, and lets him slip easily into her. Robin can’t get enough so he pushes her back on the bed before impaling her with his cock, making her cry out. “You alright?” His voice sounds raspy, desperate, and his movement is now slow and deep—deliberate. He’d been so turned on but wanted to focus tonight on pleasuring her as many times as he could. Now that he’s inside her, his cock sheathed in her tight heat, he can barely stand it. He fights the urge to speed up his thrusts. It’s torture for him. “Regina?”

“Mmm, I’m fine, just…caught me off guard. Don’t stop, feels good.”

“Want me deeper?”

Regina hums in approval and Robin brings her thighs up, pressing them gently into her chest as he pushes himself fully, buried completely now to the hilt as she gasps. “Oh god, you’re so deep.”

“I know babe, I can feel everything. You’re so amazing.” Robin starts to move his cock, a slow, rhythmic, torturous dance. Beads of sweat appear on his forehead as if by magic. He pulls almost completely out of her before he thrusts back in, repeating the motion several times as they both moan in tandem.

Robin starts to speed up when he feels Regina’s walls tighten around him, clamping around his cock. The tip of his dick is hitting her G-spot, he knows because every time it does, Regina whimpers incoherently. “Shall I stop?”

She pants out, “Don’t you dare! Go faster, Robin, _mmmm, yesss!!_ Yes, just like that, fuck me!! _Fuck me deeper, harder!!!_ ”

He rolls his eyes gratefully as animal instinct takes over and he starts to thrust into her mercilessly. They’re both grunting and sweating, their bodies slick making the movement so slippery, so good. Robin is hitting her so deep and so repeatedly, he almost stops when he feels a rush of hot wetness surround his cock as Regina cries out, her walls gripping his length hard as a vise. Four more thrusts and Robin is coming, crying out her name. “Regina!! Oh god, Regina, fuck you’re amazing!!”

His body collapses on top of hers as her legs go slack beside him. She reaches up and pulls the blindfold off, her eyes adjusting.

“Oh, wow,” she says looking at the bed, blushing with embarrassment at the wet spots on the pillows. “I’ve made a mess.”

“Don’t worry about that,” he says. “You don’t need to feel ashamed. It’s _me_. I love _you_. Every _bit_ of you.”

Giving him a doubtful look, she purses her lips as he smiles drowsily and kisses her cheek. “It’s the truth.” She laughs when he wiggles his eyebrows at her.

“I love you, too,” she says and leans forward kissing him.

They lay in silence together, catching their breaths. She’s not sure how long they’re like that, quiet in the blissful release of such an intense orgasm.

Regina thinks Robin’s drifted off to sleep until she feels his arms wrap around her. He sits them both up, placing her on his lap. His cock is jutting out again, looking to fill her up again. The muscles in his arms flexing with the motion, and Regina smiles as she traces them delicately with her fingers. She knows he loves it when she lets go of her inhibitions and talks dirty, and she’s been trying. “You want me to suck you off?”

With that he lifts her, lines his hard cock up with her entrance and lets her sink down on him again as they groan in unison. “Can’t believe I’m about to say this, but perhaps later, love?” he says nipping at her bottom lip. His hands are on her waist guiding her to and fro. The lovemaking is lazy and slow after the last intense one. This time, Regina takes the initiative, placing her hands on his shoulders as she rotates her hips then lifts herself up and sinks back down on him, letting him impale her before she repeats the motion again.

“Perhaps,” she breathes out repeating his own. His hand comes around, fingers pulling and twisting her nipple, as he brings her breast up to his lips and sucks it in, tongue laving the stiff peak.

He lets go, only to ravage her other breast as well, while his other hand holds onto her ass, moving with her hips.

“This is nice.” Regina hums contentedly.

“You feel incredible. Love being in you like this and like before, so deep. You were so wet.”

“I know Locksley. There’s evidence of my wetness everywhere.” She bites his lip playfully.

Robin leans back. “Are you saying you don’t like it?”

Regina smiles deviously, leaning in to trade lazy kisses as they keep moving together. It’s not enough to get either of them off, but it’s nice. Intimate.

Regina pulls up off him grabs the tie from the bed where she’d tossed it. “What are you doing?”

Smirking, she brings it up to his face, and ties it over his eyes. “Lie back,” she says. “It’s my turn to take care of you.”

“But darling—”

“Ah, ah, ah,” she admonishes. “I trusted you. Now you need to trust me.” She pushes his chest gently until he’s lying on his back, his cock stiff in the air, glistening with her juices.

Getting off the bed, she whispers, “I’ll be right back.”

Robin wonders what’s going on, but he says nothing. She hasn’t left the room, but she’s opened her closet. She rejoins him on the bed, and swirls her tongue over his cock as a warm hand wraps around it, mimicking the swirl.

“ _Fuck_!” he cries out.

Her lips envelop his thickness, her tongue darts out and licks along a vein that runs along the underside of his cock. “I love sucking you off,” she says taking him deeper, breathing through it. When his tip touches the back of her throat, Regina swallows around him and Robin does his best to control his hips from buckling wildly.

“ _Fuck!_ That’s so good? Keep doing that, babe. Suck me. Take it deep.”

Breathing through it she slides all the way until her lips are around his base. Robin’s legs shake and his lips quiver. He feels her shift and then something soft and cool is on his tip. “What are…”

“You said you’d trust me, right? So… _trust me_.” Regina slides an object all the way down on his shaft. Her fingers make delicate contact with him and Robin’s tongue licks along his bottom lip as she turns a switch on. “Vibrating cock ring,” he hears her say. She straddles him as she takes his cock and guides it to her entrance. “Mmm, _fuck_! Damn…this’ll help, _ahhh_ , help you last a little… _mmmm_! Little longer.”

“Fuck,” Robin groans at the sensations. Regina is soaked and her entrance is hot. His hands move to find her breasts, pushing them together then rolling her nipples between his fingers again, making Regina shudder. “This alright love?”

“They’re a little sensitive right now babe,” she admits.

“Say no more.” He stops twirling them roughly and brings her breast closer to his face, his tongue reaching out to gently lick at the hardened peak, swirling around it then tapping it firmly, the same taps she enjoys on her clit.

Their heated bodies are slick with sweat, coated with their juices. Robin treats her other nipple to the same treatment then takes the nub between his teeth and applies pressure, shattering Regina into another orgasm. His hips piston up, her walls milking him. Ordinarily this would make him come but he finds himself moving faster, harder and nothing is happening though he’s incredibly aroused. He lets out a growl of frustration as Regina finishes riding her orgasm out, then she moves off him, quickly removing the cock ring. He hears the unmistakable click of a switch and the humming comes to a stop. Robin has barely taken a breath when he feels Regina’s tongue circling his cock. He lets out a haggard breath, and hears her let out a dark chuckle.

Suddenly they hear movement outside the room. Freezing momentarily, their breaths are the only thing heard in the bedroom as they silently wait it out. The sound of Lola’s dog tags clink just outside the door as they listen to her sniff under the door, then slump her body against it as they both snicker quietly.

Regina takes his cock in her mouth again, moaning when she tastes herself on him and moving her head sideways, up, down, repeating the movement. It doesn’t take long at all until Robin is gasping. “I’m gonna…I’m gonna come!” He warns her but she holds onto his hips, her mouth refusing to let his cock go. He cries out as ropes of come hit Regina’s throat and she swallows happily, continuing to suck his cock until he’s shuddering, begging her to stop.“It’s too much, love, _ahhh,_ so good, but, _mmmmh_ too much. Too much.”

Stretching out beside him, Robin removes the tie from his eyes, adjusting to the sight around him. He’s breathless. The bed is a mess, the sheets are practically hanging off the edge. A green jelly toy in the shape of an O with what appears to be a bullet strapped to the top is lying off to one side. He takes it in his fingers, and gives it a squeeze. Regina kisses his shoulder and smiles as he puts his arm around her. “I approve,” he rasps.

“Want some water?”

“Mmm, yes love, that sounds wonderful, but wait. Don’t go yet.” He pulls her closer and kisses her, brushing his hand over her cheek as his thumb grazes her earlobe gently. “I love you so much, Regina.”

Nudging his forehead, the tips of their noses brush as she sighs happily. “I love you too, Robin.”

They lie there for several minutes, their racing hearts calming, slowly returning to normal. Regina’s the first to pull away and when Robin grunts in disapproval, she whispers, “Your water.”

“I can get it love, you stay here.”

Robin gets up, pulling on on a pair of pajama bottoms. Using her en suite bathroom, heuses the facilities, then washes his hands. The cool water feels good on his heated skin, so he takes a little of it and splashes his face, patting it dry with a plush towel. He smiles at Regina as he crosses the room. She’s wrapped in a bedsheet, wearing her glasses and he feels his cock stir again. Sighing happily, he walks to her side of the bed and gives her a kiss. “Be right back,” he murmurs. “I’ll bring some for you too.” 

Her fingernails scratch his stubble lovingly as she nods. “Okay.” She has a far off, dreamy look on her face, the look of a woman who’s sated and content.

 

*.*.*.*

 

It’s very late and they need to go to sleep soon or they’ll be exhausted when Roland wakes up. After delaying his confession this long, Robin considers waiting until morning, then rejects the idea.

Roland would be with them. For once, his son had no playdates with friends, and since John and Trina had taken him many weekends, he couldn’t ask them to take him again. Ultimately, Roland was his responsibility and in all honesty, while he loved spending alone time with Regina, he missed spending time with his boy.

Sucking it up, he sat before her, facing the headboard as her back rested against it. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers traced a gentle caress along her cheek.

“Robin? What’s wrong?”

 _Do it now._ _It’ll be like ripping off a band-aid_ , his mind reasoned.

He shifted slightly. “Babe, d’you remember when I said I didn’t know how Will Scarlet was connected to the Golds?”

“Mmm-hmm,” she answers, sipping her water.

“Well, as it turns out, Gold’s wife, Belle? She’s uh, she’s actually Will’s cousin. Their mums are —were—sisters, see.”

Regina places the water on her nightstand and frowns. “But, you never recognized her. Wouldn’t her name have rung a bell?” She laughs a little at her own joke, but Robin shakes his head.

“That’s because we called her _Pip_ when we were younger. Her last name then was French. She’s changed so much physically, it was easy to miss. No thick lenses, no pigtails. She was like this quiet, nerdy bibliophile back then.” He takes her hand and threads their fingers. “Besides, as I remember, we were occupied with something else entirely, remember?”

Regina sits up, blinking slowly as she processes what he’s saying. “Okay. Well, were you two close?”

“I was close to Will, and so was she, but if you’re wondering whether or not she and I were involved, the answer is no.” He looks down, smiling at a memory. “Pip had these tiny freckles on her nose, and wore these enormous glasses, much too large for her small face. She always had a book under her arm. I took her under my wing when her mum got sick. She passed on years later, after I’d lost touch with them. Blood cancer.”

“Big glasses, huh?” Regina muses as she takes her own glasses off, folding the legs in and placing them on the nightstand. “Considering she’s married to Gold, I’d say she prefers older men.” She leans back on the headboard, her arms folding over her midsection.

Robin kisses her forehead tenderly, whispering that he loves it when she’s jealous, making Regina lean forward and raise an eyebrow at him defiantly

“I am _not_ jealous. It was merely an observation. Of fact.”

“Right, of course,” he says and laughs.

“I’m serious!”

“I know, darling. And also, I didn’t know you considered me to be so old as to lump me in the same age box as Spencer-sodding-Gold.”

She scoffs in annoyance as he smiles again, then laughs, her eyes staring off dreamily, pulling the sheet further up her chest.

“Robin? What if you talked to her, told her about my situation with the will? Maybe you could get her to talk to Gold, so that maybe…he might—I don’t know. Think about destroying Leo’s will, or amending it somehow? Releasing what’s rightfully mine. I don’t even want Leo’s money. All I want is what belongs to _me_.”

 _Here we go_ , he thinks. _The moment of truth._

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, love.”

“Why not?” He’s silent. This is even harder than he imagined. Robin doesn’t want this to end and suddenly he fears it could. “Robin, you won’t even _try_?”

“It’s not that, babe. It’s…” He sighs. “I, uh… I went to the Golds’ house last week. And I…sort of…broke Will’s nose. I might have…damaged his ribs, too.”

“ _You did what_?” She’s not so much angry as she is mortified.

“I broke his nose,” Robin repeats quietly.

“Why would you do that?!”

“He kidnapped you!”

“That’s your excuse?” she hisses, kicking off the sheet as she storms from the bed, quickly draping the robe over her naked body as she ties the sash with annoyance. “Have you lost your mind?”

“That’s exactly what Belle said.” He flashes a grin at her, but it quickly fades when she gives him an angry stare.

“Now is _not_ the time for jokes. I can’t believe you did that. I told you I was _fine_. And Will Scarlet is a complete moron. I had the situation under control. Geppes hasn’t even made a peep since then, but now—who knows? Am I to expect a call from him?” She angrily taps her foot on the floor.

“Do you even realize how scared I was? I spent that entire day thinking you were hurt. Or worse.”

“I understand that, but I don’t need anyone fighting my battles for me.”

“I know that, Regina. And I wasn’t trying to fight your battles, believe me. I never did anything when I caught him and Marian. If you think about it, I should have beaten him years ago.”

“Okay Robin, listen to me. I get that you were freaking out over me being gone. It was scary for you. But I came home, unscathed. We talked, and more than that, you scrutinized _every inch_ of my body. You knew I was fine. _Nothing happened._ ” She sat down beside him on the bed. “Did you do it because you wanted to get back at him for what he did with Marian, or did it really have to do entirely with me? Be honest.”

“I just said both.”

“You know what? It doesn’t matter. It’s done. Guess I’ll have to spend the next several weeks looking over my shoulder, again. Thanks.”

“You’re being dramatic, your majesty.”

Her face turned sharply to his as she gathered the ends of her robe. Robin rubbed his face with his hands, wishing he’d never brought this up, wishing he could go back in time and not beat Will. It was reckless, and Regina had every right to be mad. He’d crossed a line and they both knew it. “I think you should sleep in one of the guest rooms tonight.” Turning away from him, she leaves him sitting on her bed as she walks into the bathroom, shutting the door. Robin sighs when he hears the shower running.

He grabs a t-shirt from one of the drawers she’d given him, and throws the bathroom door one last glance before he exits her bedroom quietly, stepping over Lola’s sleeping form. He makes his way to Roland’s room.

He’ll sleep with his son tonight.

 

*.*.*.*

 

Robin is awakened in the morning by a long wet tongue. He opens his eyes blearily to find Lola licking his ear. Sitting up, he notices Roland isn’t in the room. He’s tired and disoriented. The previous night comes crashing back to him and he hopes he’ll at least be able to enjoy a hot cup of coffee before they go home. He knows Regina will want her space and he plans to give it to her.

The sound of a toilet flushing echoes from across the hall and he can hear Roland padding back to the room.

“Morning Dad! How come you slept in here instead of with Regi?”

Oh to be young and chipper in the morning again. Ignoring the question, Robin greets his son by tousling his hair. “Morning Roland, how’d you sleep?”

“Real good! I’m excited about today. D’you think Regina will want to race with us on the track?” That’s right. Robin had almost forgotten he and Regina had promised to take Roland to the go-kart track he’d gone to with his friends.

“I’m not sure, Ro, she mentioned having to do some work today. Remember how she was on that work call for a long time yesterday?” The boy nods. “You can ask her when she wakes up, yeah?”

Roland nods again, some of his curls falling on his forehead, as his face lights up brightly. “Dad, why don’t we surprise her with breakfast? That way, she’ll say yes to go-karts later!”

Robin laughs weakly. “I don’t know, Roland. That phone call was pretty important and I’m certain she’s got a lot of work that can’t wait. We should probably be getting home soon.” He wishes they’d never slept over last night, wishes he’d have had the conversation with Regina when they were alone. That way, he’d have gone home alone without having to lie to his son. 

Frowning with confusion, Roland asks, “Why would we go home, Dad? We always have breakfast together when we sleep here. All three of us, like a family.”

Robin sighs, realizing his son may be young but he’s no fool. “What’d you have in mind?”

“Maybe French toast? With eggs and bacon?” Roland shrugged. “Which do you think she’d like?

“I’m sure whatever _you_ make her, she’ll _love_ ,” he says. Because Roland wasn’t in the dog house, like he was.

 

*.*.*.*

 

The smell of bacon and fresh coffee wakes Regina from her slumber. Sitting up in bed, she remembers their fight last night as she runs her fingers along his side of the bed. Her brain feels a little fuzzy, and she sees why: there are two unfinished wine glasses on her dresser, and the cock ring she’d put on Robin last night was on his nightstand next to his glass of water. She takes a deep breath, remembering they’d argued, and she’d been too tired to rehash it in her mind after she’d showered, falling immediately into a deep, dreamless sleep. It hadn’t been too bad, nothing harsh was said but Robin had accused her of being dramatic, which she didn’t agree with. Mostly, she needed her space, so she’d asked him to sleep elsewhere. She thought he might have left to his own home by now, but the breakfast could be a peace offering.

Getting out of bed, she stretched before walking lazily to her bathroom. She’d taken the toy from his nightstand, washing and drying it completely. Cupping it in her hand, she returned it to her closet before returning to the bathroom.

After she’d brushed her teeth, Regina took another quick shower, mostly to wake herself up. Lathering her body with a poof and creamy body wash, she stood beneath the rain-shower nozzle, letting the suds fall from her body, down the drain. She’d shampoo her hair tonight, which she usually did on Sundays before the work week.

Patting her skin dry with the towel, she slathered on her favorite scented lotion then applied facial moisturizer. She still felt tired and sleepy but refreshed. Pulling out a pair of yoga pants and slipped on a cami with a built-in bra, adjusting her breasts inside the cups. It was a little chilly in the house so she also took her favorite cardigan from it’s hook in her closet and slid it on. Taking one last look in the mirror, she swiped some lip balm on her lips and walked out of her room. toward the delicious smell coming from her kitchen.

 

*.*.*.*

 

Robin felt like his senses were on high alert for Regina’s footsteps, forgetting that Lola would be the first to notice when she woke. Suddenly, the dog whined and leapt from her pillow, running down the long hall. Regina walked in several seconds later, Lola trailing behind her.

“Good morning,” Robin said softly and sincerely. “Sleep well?”

He didn’t want to argue, at least not while his son was present. Whatever else they had to discuss would happen later, in private. She just gave him a passing glance. He suddenly felt foolish, and wished he’d done a better job of convincing his son to let her have this morning alone.

Roland, who’d been setting the table for breakfast, heard his father wish her a good morning so he ran in excitedly. “Morning Regi!”

“Good morning to you both, and to you too sweetheart,” she said bending down to kiss Lola’s snout as the dog huffed. She went to Roland and slid her fingers through his hair. “How’d you sleep, Roly?”

“Great! Dad and I made breakfast! Scrambled eggs and bacon cause there’s not enough bread for French toast, but um, you like those foods right Regi?”

“Mmm-hmm, yes I do,” she nodded as the boy gave her a dimpled grin, his hands full of utensils as he scampered off to the dining room.

“Hi,” she whispered to Robin, as her hand came around his waist. He breathed out a sigh of relief, rubbing his hand between her shoulder blades.

“I’m sorry, love, so sorry,” he whispered in her ear. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know you didn’t. I’m sorry, too. I overreacted,” she said, biting his bottom lip gently.

“When my son goes to bed tonight, I’m going to ravage you.”

Regina hated to burst his bubble, but she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and said, “I’m staying here tonight, though.”

Robin’s heart fell, and he muttered _Of course_ , just as Roland walked into the kitchen again, asking if breakfast was ready yet.

“I’ll plate them up, Ro,” Regina said to the boy.

“No!” Roland’s unexpected shriek stopped them in their tracks. Robin was about to scold his son, but the boy looked over at him and said, “Dad, we’re making _her_ breakfast. She’s our queen today, so she shouldn’t serve us! We’ll serve her, okay?”

Regina swallowed the lump in her throat at the boy’s kind gesture. In all the years she spent with Leo, he’d never made her breakfast in bed, made her feel special. She watched father and son, as their backs turned from her to serve the food on the plates, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. No one had ever given this much of a damn about her. She hadn’t felt this loved, this _appreciated_ , not since her parents were alive. Leo cared until it wasn’t in his interest to do so anymore. And he’d certainly never made her a meal, either.

Walking to her dining room, she asked if it was alright for her to sit down. Her boys smiled at her and Roland pulled her chair out. “Now you can!” He made a show of sweeping his small hand behind the chair.

“This looks amazing.”

Roland beamed at her compliment. “Regi, Dad made your coffee just the way you like it, and I poured you some orange juice. Did you want some toast, too? I can make that all by myself!”

“No, Roly, sit down. Let’s eat, I’m famished,” she said, kissing the tip of his nose. Leaning toward Robin, she pecked his lips chastely and murmured, “Thanks babe.” He winked back and they begun eating their breakfast in peace, the discord from the previous night a memory.

 

*.*.*.*

 

Killian walked into Billy’s Pub Too in North Miami. Moe French and Bill Smee were there waiting for him at a corner table in the back, with instructions from Geppes, who’d returned to his home in the northeast before flying back to Italy. Geppes, as he’d promised Regina, would make himself scarce for the time being, but Killian knew the man well enough to know he wouldn’t leave without making sure Regina would be alright and looked after.

Killian sat at their table as the other men sipped beers, a bowl of pretzels before them. Moe dipped four meaty fingers absentmindedly into the pretzels every so often, popping them into his mouth. Killian sighed as Bill pulled an envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket.

“Boss wants you to stay near the woman,” Moe said after he’d swallowed. 

“Tell me something I don’t already know.” This earned him an annoyed glare from Moe.

“We don’t know what you and the boss discuss privately, mate. He don’t tell us. A payment was wired to your account over an hour ago.”

A thin waitress in a faded pair of jeans approached their table. She wore a t-shirt with the bar’s logo on it, a stained apron over her front. The woman placed two baskets on their table, one with chicken wings and another full of onion rings in the center of the table, taking the pretzels. “Leave them,” Moe grunted out.

Setting a cocktail before Killian, she looks over at him. “Can I get you anything, cutie?”

“Guinness Draught, luv.” Killian winks as she smiles politely, walking back to the bar for his drink.

“Any special instructions?” Killian’s attention is back on the two men before him. Moe was immersed in a baseball game on one of the screens, and Bill had already begun chewing on a wing, his fingers coated in grease and barbecue sauce.

Without breaking eye contact with the television, Moe says, “Should anything happen, you’re to let the boss know immediately. He promised her he’d leave the scumbag attorney alone, but if you hear the little shit is making trouble for her again, you’re to let the boss know. Understand?”

The waitress returned with his beer. He thanked her and brought it to his lips, taking a long sip and shutting his eyes to savor the pleasure. He never drank while on duty, but he wasn’t going to work for another six hours, so Killian made sure to enjoy it. “Anything else, princesses?” he asked as he fingered the basket with the onion rings, stealing a small one and popping it into his mouth.

“There was an anonymous phone tip. They caught up with the redhead thief outside Cambodia, but you don’t need details on _that_ ,” Moe says, crunching a pretzel.

Killian took another sip of beer and swallowed, remaining as calm as he could. “The hell I do. She’ll likely travel to Texas now, asshole.” Moe gave him a warning look but said nothing.

Bill finished licking his fingers and wiped them on a paper napkin. “Not necessary. Booth is handling everything while she’s there. By the way, thought you might enjoying knowing your roommate kicked Scarlet’s ass.”

Furrowing his brow, Killian stares at Bill in confusion. “What the fuck are you on about, man?”

“Oh yeah,” Bill nodded pulling another wing from the basket. “Loverboy went after Scarlet last week. Broke his nose. Bruised four ribs.”

“Bloody hell.” Killian laughs humorlessly. “Well, serves him right.”

The three men continue to sit in silence, watching the game as they eat the food. The only one who either scoffs, grunts, or cheers is Moe. Killian finishes his beer, but not before he helps himself to a few more onion rings and two chicken wings. Standing, he drops $40 on the table and walks back out to his car without another word.

Before he reaches it, he pulls his phone from his back pocket and sends a text to August Booth.

 _Jones:_ _Heard you caught a big fish out in Cambodia. Well done._

_Booth: Thanks man. Good to hear from you. Still doing detail?_

_Jones: Aye. She’ll be on your turf soon. Any pushing?_

_Booth: Of course…_

_Jones: Fuck._

_Booth: No worries. I’ve already said no. Repeatedly._

_Jones: We’ll be in touch._

_Booth: Count on it._

 

*.*.*.*

 

After breakfast, Roland had convinced Regina to join them that day for go-kart racing. The hours spent at the park went by quickly, and by the time they got back to Regina’s home, Roland was very subdued. Regina asked if he’d had a good time.

“Yup! And my favorite part was when you raced with us!”

“I had a great time too, honey,” she said as Robin brought her hand up to his lips and kissed her fingers. He mouthed _I love you_ and she mouthed it back, caressing his stubble.

“I think we should be getting home soon,” Robin said to Roland, perking the boy up. “Whaddya mean, Dad? I thought we were gonna have dinner with Regi?”

“That was the original plan, Ro, but we left the park rather late, and it’s a school night.”

Roland pouted and crossed his arms defiantly. “But there’s nothing to eat at home! You haven’t cooked anything in days!”

“Watch the tone, Roland,” Robin said warningly.

Regina listened and decided it was time to intervene.

“Why don’t you guys stay a little while? Roland can have his bath at my place and I’ll order some takeout. It’ll be here by the time he’s done. You can both go home after. Deal?” She looked over at Robin tentatively. The last time she’d gotten involved in parenting his son, she’d had one hell of a day. But this was different. It was just them. Like a real family.

Robin waited a few seconds to see if his son would protest again, but Roland stayed quiet so Robin finally acquiesced. “That sounds wonderful, love.”

Crossing the threshold they were greeted by a happy Lola, tail wagging with excitement. Robin instructed Roland to grab clean clothes from his room and immediately head for the bathroom, and the boy knew better than to put up a fight; his father had made it plain that he wasn’t going to tolerate misbehavior, so he marched to the room, doing just as he was told.

Regina took his hand. “Robin, don’t you think you were _a little_ hard on him?”

“No. He needs to know that raising his voice to me is unacceptable. Besides, it _is_ a school night and we’ll have to leave right after dinner. Unfortunately.” He kissed the tip of her nose before pecking her lips. “When will dinner be here?”

“They said forty minutes.”

“Hmm, and he’ll take about fifteen minutes in the bath. How about I help you get a little more comfortable, yeah?” His warm hands wandered beneath her shirt, pressing herback closer to him as he kissed her a little deeper.

Regina’s arms came around his shoulders, and she let out a surprised gasp and pulled back as Robin bit his bottom lip.

“Mr. Locksley, you’re very sneaky.” He’d unhooked her bra with one hand. “And you’re very good with your hands. And fingers. And…your tongue.”

“Ahh, you’re killing me, darling. Go on.”

Roland called out that he was ready, and Robin was the one pouting like a child now. “It appears I’m being summoned, milady.”

“Indeed.”

They kiss one more time before she pulls away and walks toward her room, slipping the bra through her shirt as Robin calls out to his son. “I’m on my way.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction so hopefully you'll enjoy it. I'll post chapters as soon as I've written and edited them. Since I'm new, I'm in the market for a beta so message me privately to discuss this possibility if you're interested.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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